


what's new, pussycat?

by orphan_account



Series: Pads, Paws, and Claws [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A love of Disney films, AU, Actual cat!Harry, Alcohol, An ordinate amount of sappy pet names, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asthma, Asthmatic Harry, Awkward Boners, Awkward Flirting, BUT MOSTLY FLUFF I MEAN, Bathing, Belonging, Biting, Biting because Harry's a little shit, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Buns and braids, Cat/Human Hybrids, Cheating, Collars, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Crying, Did I mention Harry's territorial?, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Exceedingly so. Jealous kitten, Expensive ass boots, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, HARRY IS LOUIS' BABY FUCKING FIGHT ME, Hairballs, Hand Feeding, Happy Ending, Harry as a hybrid, Harry being the cutest thing to ever grace the earth, Harry doesn't get jokes, Harry has a fanclub, Harry is a Disney Princess tbh???, Harry is a Little Shit, Harry is a Tease, Harry is a fucking horny bastard, Harry is... special, Harry likes to feel pretty and wanted all the time, Harry loves being Louis', Harry loves being marked, Harry loves being naked, Harry really shouldn't touch rodents, Harry's clueless about how to human okay, Harry's in love with Louis from the get go alright, Harry's sad and clueless for a lil bit, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I can't be totally vanilla I apologize, I can't believe that's a tag I AM GARBAGE, I have no regrets, I mean.... I would say sorry but I'm not, Illnesses, It is like weed, It's like a brief cheeky nod to watersports, It's secretly just my squad in the tiny harry GC :), Jealous Louis, Just like IRL, Kinda subspace, Kissing, Kitty!Harry, Like a baby angst, Like... surprisingly Jealous, Louis deserves an award for control, Louis is lucky he isn't fired tbh, Lovebite tag, Lovebites, M/M, Marijuana, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Mating, Mentions of self fellatio, Minor Violence, Nail Polish, Naked Cuddling, Niall already speaks cat and knows what's up, Not larry, Oblivious Louis, Or much sarcasm, Oral Sex, Pain, Painkink, Paranoid Harry is life, Pet Names, Plushophilia, Public Display of Affection, Public Nudity, Purring, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Same-Sex Marriage, Sex Mentions, Sickness, Sorry not sorry sorry, Stomach Ache, Swearing, Tattoo Kink, Tattoos, Territorial Harry, Territory/belonging kink, The World can be mean, There will be cat courting, Thoughts of Marriage, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Louis, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Very little angst really, Veterinary Clinic, Violence, Virus, Vomiting, Whipped cream nipples, a lot of shenanigans, carsickness, catnip, cavity-inducing fluff, collaring, cursing, hybrid!harry, like a lot, little angst, mentions of neutering, more tattoos, naked harry, pain kink mention, pissing, there's a lot of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 55,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' life gets rocked when he ends up taking a young kitten home one night after work. His world gets turned totally upside down and inside out when that kitten turns into a cat man a month later. </p><p>This is a story of blossoming love, setting boundaries, learning to be human... and cat jokes. So many cat jokes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Louis Tomlinson's Life Gets Turned Upside Down By a Small Kitten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radadusta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radadusta/gifts).



> This fic will be (very soon) receiving another incredibly thorough edit from a very accomplished and close friend to beta for me. There are tiny slip-ups throughout this and I try to correct them as I see them, but be kind ~<3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds himself with a cat one night.
> 
> Soon after, he finds himself with a kitty boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic ruined my life for a month please enjoy!

Louis sighed softly and slowly started to tidy up shop, humming to himself as he stacked freshly washed and dried mugs up on the shelf. He thoroughly cleaned and powered down the machines and made sure to unplug the more expensive-- and potentially fire-starting-- ones, peering out the front window of the café where he worked into the fading glow of twilight. Rain was coming down, nothing heavy but definitely enough to blur the street lamps and give him a proper soaking if he wasn't careful.

 

Louis was the only one on for the closing shift at Grinder; yes, it was alarmingly similar to the homosexual app name, and he was fairly (98%) certain that his arsehole boss Nick Grimshaw had done it on purpose. _If_ he was being perfectly honest, it was pretty amusing, and their crowd really did include a lot of gay hipsters. It was part of the reason he'd taken the job, he'd wanted to try and connect a bit more, flirt a bit, maybe go on a few dates.

 

Instead, he got to deal with Nick constantly grazing the line of sexual harassment, smelling like coffee grinds, frequently burning his hands on baked goods or spilled steaming beverages, and listening to the shit talent that poured in for fucking indie night every Friday. Louis never wanted to hear another song about bringing down the establishment, and he was going to scream if he saw one more bearded lad in glasses and a flannel shirt over a tank top. He could only take so much fucking plaid!

 

Honestly, the only reason he stayed was because he'd named and created a few of the drinks, and Niall would disown him if he didn't get the recipe for Nick’s biscotti before he said sayonara. It was a job that he'd learned to do mindlessly, and it paid well enough to keep him in his one bedroom flat in the nicer part of town, so he settled-- at least for now. Even if he was slightly worried it was slowly sucking his soul out into the blackhole kept in the cleaning closet.

 

Luckily, they were finally, officially closed: Grinder locked up at 9 PM sharp on Sundays, and Louis hadn't seen hide nor hair of a customer since 8:15. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly set about sweeping, mopping, wiping, all of that fun shit in the front that he always waited to do, just in case. He'd learned that the hard way, when he'd had some bloody teenagers spill their drinks on his freshly scrubbed floor just as they were leaving for lock up.

 

He groaned once he was all done, taking off his barista cap and grabbing his takeaway cup full of Yorkshire and just a splash of milk. He punched out, noting he'd worked 7 hours and 57 minutes-- very rarely did that say a full 8 hours as Louis was late to life-- and double and triple checked to make sure everything was off and locked, before he stepped out the door.

 

Shivering, he grumbled and shrugged into his hoodie, setting his cuppa to the side as he tugged the jumper on over his head with a satisfied sigh. Louis started heading towards his parked car, keys already out and thumb hovering over the unlock button when he paused.

 

There had been something strange today. He'd seen a younger girl out here with a box full of kittens. They'd all been free to a good home, all eight, just a squirming, furry pile that Louis couldn't resist briefly petting on his way into work. One of them had even licked his hand. Louis felt himself smiling involuntarily, glancing towards the empty box fondly, sat on the corner and half tucked under one of their outside bistro tables. If he hadn't looked, he wouldn't have seen how the box was moving slightly. There was still something inside, although there were no other people around. Heart sinking, Louis approached the jostling cardboard.

 

Holding his breath in trepidation, Louis crouched low and peered into the box. A small shape lay curled into a ball, shivering softly. Biting at his bottom lip, Louis flipped on his phone’s flashlight and illuminated a dark brown, tabby kitten. It was fluffed up, and big, green eyes, their pupils massive, focused on the light, the tiny thing curling up even tighter. Louis could tell the poor scrap wasn't doing so great.

 

Slowly, he reached down and gently picked it up, taking a quick peek under its tail to confirm it was a male. Louis gently cradled the sodden and bedraggled ball of fluff, sighing softly. His flat allowed pets with a deposit; he'd actually been planning on maybe adopting an older cat from a local animal shelter in a month or so. He had all of the slowly collected-- usually given-- cat stuff shoved in one of his closets. The kitten let out a sneeze, mewling softly with a small, pink mouth, paws, surprisingly big for its stature, clamping around his right hand as he blinked up at Louis trustingly.

 

Well. Louis guessed he had a cat now.

 

“Hi,” Louis told the kitty softly, giving his little brown nose a boop. He thought quickly, wanting to get the kitten warm and dry as soon as possible, and set the-- now crying-- baby cat down so he could maneuver his jumper so that it was on backwards. Grabbing up the meowing kitten, Louis placed it in his hood, tucked close to his chest and just below his chin. The feline silenced itself, immediately and gratefully accepting the newfound warmth and closeness of this position.

 

“Let's go home,” Louis sighed, a bit damp and now smelling like wet cat. He unlocked his car and got in, turning up the heat to fight off the chill of the mid-October air. After flicking on the radio and letting it play quietly, he felt the kitten curl up in his hood and settle on the ride. It was pretty damn cute, he had to admit. The drive was, thankfully, uneventful with little traffic, and he made it home and parked by the curb with no issue. He got out, locked the car, and felt the kitten begin to stir as Louis stuck his key in the door and jiggled it three times to the left for it to bloody open.

 

“Welcome home-- shit. You haven't got a name yet. We’ll get you one,” Louis promised shyly, smiling down at the wriggling ball of fur in his jumper with a quiet laugh. A soft mewl greeted him in reply. He flicked on the lights to his quiet flat, humming and flicking the telly on for background noise as he made some pot noodle and set to work on drying the damp kitten. Dismayed, he noticed grime staining the towel and noted, apprehensively, he'd need to give the kitten a proper bath.

 

“Let's get that outta the way, first, then,” Louis decided, scooping up the disgruntled cat with a soft snort. He carried the kitty into the loo and calmly turned on the bathtub, only filling it so the kitten would be in water up to his belly. “Please don't scratch the shit out of me,” Louis begged, settling the feline in the tub and using an old McDonald’s cup to carefully but thoroughly soak his fur. The cat whined at him, but didn't struggle, just obediently stood there dripping.

 

“Okay, love, just some shampoo…” Louis didn't have any animal specific, which he felt awful about, so he just used his own to gently cleanse the cat. He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of him as he saw the grumpy kitten, lathered up in bubbles as he growled at Louis crankily. “Sorry,” Louis chuckled, rinsing him and then turning the tap off. “Good lad, there's a good kitty.” He towel dried the small scrap off as fresh giggles overtook him. “You're so… Hairy,” Louis noted, blinking at the giant puffball that was his kitten drying. Green eyes fixed on him in sudden interest.

 

“What?” A soft mew was his answer. “Did you like that? You're hairy?” Another quiet meow, and Louis smiled down at him. “I can't call you Hairy, that's silly, but what about Harry? You could be a Harry. All dignified, like,” Louis snorted incredulously as the kitten puffed his chest out and licked his fur down with a noisy chirrup. “So you like Harry, then?”

 

The kitten blinked slowly at him and kept grooming, but there was a surprisingly loud purr coming from him now. Louis grinned. “Harry it is then. Nice to meet you,” he hummed. Harry was pretty big for his age, all long, gangly legs and spiky fur with luminous eyes the color of emeralds. He was adorable.

 

He released Harry into his house and started dragging all of the cat items out of his crowded closet, groaning softly as he lugged out a cat tree and set it by his living room window. The litter box, freshly filled, was stuck in the bathroom by the sink. He placed a bed on his windowsill, then set out two bowls and a placemat in the kitchen. By this point, he'd lost where his kitten was. “Harry?” Louis called. “Here, kitty kitty!”

 

The kitten came scampering out from his bedroom, a sock in his mouth as he beelined for Louis’ legs and started winding around him while purring warmly, tripping up his new owner. Louis filled a saucer with milk and set it down, watching Harry start lapping it up daintily before he cracked a can of tuna and set that down for his kitten to eat next. He had no cat food currently in his home, but he'd be sure to buy some tomorrow.

 

“How's that?” Louis asked fondly, kneeling down to gently pet the cat and listen to his loud, rumbling purr. He fished the collar he'd selected ages ago from his pocket, a pink one with rhinestones, a silver bell, and a tag with his address. Louis scribbled Harry on the other side in Sharpie, then carefully latched it around Harry's neck. “Sorry it's kinda girly, I was gonna get a female. I don't think you really care much, though. It's just a safety precaution, in case you get out.” The kitten purred back at him, and he smiled down at him with a fond sigh.

 

He let the cat do his thing the rest of the night, happy to observe him easily taking to his surroundings. Harry fit in like he was what was missing the whole time. Smiling, Louis grabbed his pot noodle and sat down on the couch, shoveling his food down and zoning out on some trash reality show. Halfway through his dinner, a soft, furry weight pressed into his right thigh, Harry curling up and falling asleep next to him. It was incredibly comforting, and some of the loneliness that had curled around his heart since moving out of his mum’s house relaxed. It was… Nice. Cozy-like.

 

At just after eleven, he turned the telly off and stuck his dishes in the sink to wash tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. This week, for sure. He'd learned the hard way that after that they started to mold. Louis had thrown away a lot of dishes, thanks to that lesson. “You about ready for bed, kitty?” he asked Harry, chuckling gently and heading towards bed while carelessly shedding clothes until he was left in just his pants. The kitten followed him, sniffing his tee shirt on his way past, tail in the air with a confident trot.

 

“There's your bed,” he hummed, patting the cat bed on his window sill before crawling into his own. A few moments later, there was a five pound kitten on his chest, kneading at his blankets and purring loudly. Louis sighed. “Hey, there, ball of fluff, I'm trying to sleep here,” he chuckled softly, beyond amused. Harry just yawned at him, pink tongue curling as he flashed his white fangs, and tucked himself very snuggly over his chest. Louis grumbled but didn't have the heart to move him.

 

~~~

 

When he woke up the next morning, the sun was valiantly trying to fight its way through his curtains as the kitten batted at his fringe. Louis groaned loudly and stretched out, smiling faintly as Harry poked his face into Louis’ curiously.

 

“Watch out, ‘ve got wicked mornin’ breath,” Louis cautioned softly, giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ear. Harry chirped at him softly before sticking a paw into his face and tapping his nose impatiently. “I get it, sheesh, you're hungry,” he grumbled loudly while pushing the kitten off and heading into the kitchen. He sleepily put the kettle on and ruffled his hair, which had puffed up like a warring cockatoo in the middle of the night. Once his boiling water was ready, announced by passive-aggressive beeping, he poured a cuppa and added the milk, also leaving a big saucer for Harry out again with a determined thought about picking up cat food on his way to work.

 

“'M sure your tummy is growling, but I can't help you,” Louis apologized when Harry stared expectantly at him munching toast and eggs from his perch on the sofa, ten minutes later. “Was my last can of tuna,” he huffed defensively, taking another bite of his own breakfast as Harry jumped up beside him. Louis sighed and offered a piece of crust to the kitten, who grabbed it immediately and ate it on Louis’ lap, leaving crumbs everywhere. “Damn it,” he snorted, watching Harry blink up lazily before he started grooming himself. He offered up a bite of egg moments later, and Harry ate that almost delicately off his fork.

 

“That's just great,” Louis replied to an unasked question, rolling his eyes. _“You_ get to end up clean while I have half of brekkie on me.” He was about to get up, clutching the messy plate in one hand, when Harry suddenly latched onto his free arm, claws out. Louis froze, staring at the tabby, who gently seized Louis’ thumb and licked a bit of egg off. Harry proceeded to thoroughly groom his entire left hand, slow and methodical, claws only coming out when Louis shifted. He was eventually released from the cat’s prickly grasp, and swiftly retreated to the kitchen, laughing to himself. “Thanks for the groom, pal!”

 

Shaking his head again, he did the dishes and then left out fresh water for Harry, retreating to his bedroom to shower, brush his teeth, run his fingers through his hair, and throw on his work clothes. He had the noon shift today, and shoved his shoes on while grabbing his keys and bag. “You be a good kitty, Harry!” Louis called as he walked out the door, the kitten watching from the back of the sofa.

 

~~~

 

He returned around dinner time, triumphantly hefting a 2 and a ½ stone bag of cat food inside. “Harreh! Oi, oiii! Your human has brought you nums for your tums,” he called, dropping the sack in his pantry and tearing it open to scoop some in the food dish. Harry came streaking out of nowhere at the sound of kibble, meowing loudly. The kitten immediately started eating like he hadn't in a week, despite it being less than 24 hours. Louis snorted, “Drama queen.”

 

He left Harry to eat, stripping down to his pants before slipping on his favorite joggers and a comfy jumper. Louis heated up leftover pizza and dug in as he flipped on _One Tree Hill_. Halfway through his dinner, Harry appeared, crawling up and settling over one thigh, gently kneading the other as he purred softly. Louis occasionally slipped him pieces of pepperoni, smiling whenever Harry would pause in his purring to scarf down the meat. “Silly cat,” he remarked fondly.

 

When he went to sleep that night, Harry curled up snug and tight on his chest again.

 

~~~

 

Over the month, Louis slowly-- and then suddenly head over heels-- became a cat person. Actually, it probably didn't qualify as a cat person-- more of a _Harry_ person. Other cats were cute, sure, but of the 2,000 pics on his camera roll, about half were of Harry. The damn cat was just photogenic, alright? And he bought a second cat tower, because apparently the first one was too tall. He'd caught Harry at the top the third day he had him, yowling for help as he clung and stared down at the floor. Louis had to unlatch him and set him on the floor, where Harry had twined around his legs in a figure eight while mewling softly and purring like a motorboat. Louis assumed he'd been thanked and offered the cat’s firstborn.

 

He'd stopped by the local pet store and had the owner jokingly offer stock in his company when Louis had bought one of every cat toy they had. It was for scientific purposes, okay? He didn't know what Harry would want to play with. The answer: all of them. Especially the tiny plastic balls that jingled, Harry's favorite being the pink glittery one, as well as a teddy bear that Harry would carry around like he was a child.

 

Then Louis got treats. He'd buy cream for Harry's saucer and the fancy cans of wet food for dinner time, as well as plenty of dry bagged goodies. He bought another bed, sticking in the attachment hammock he'd purchased for Harry. It clipped to his living room window sill and his kitten would sunbathe for hours. The counters became cat domain, with Harry almost always knocking something over every time he'd jump up or down. His cat was not very graceful.

 

Catnip was hilarious to watch. The first time he'd brought it home, he'd left the tub sitting on the counter by the sink in the plastic bag while he went to use the loo. He'd returned in a hurry after hearing wailing in the kitchen, and rushed in expecting to see a gutted cat. Instead, Harry was writhing on the floor, covered in green, the half-spilled container by him where he'd managed to chew the lid open. His eyes were blown, and he spent thirty minutes tearing around the house and screeching before conking out under his coffee table and sleeping for hours. Louis was privileged to have caught almost all of it on video.

 

Louis didn't think anything of his newfound passion until Niall said something when he was talking about how he'd rearranged his furniture and installed shelves around the house for Harry to climb up and watch him from.

 

“Mate-- you. You have cat shelves? A shelf specifically for your cat? That's it, s’official. You've lost it. To a cat named Harry Styles,” Niall declared, halfway through his fourth scone. Louis squawked indignantly.

 

“Hey, you gave him the last name, not me,” Louis replied defensively. “You said, and I quote, ’that cat is a model and needs to be in a tiny tuxedo yesterday. His runway name can be Harry Styles!’”

 

“I didn't think you'd take me seriously,” Niall replied, stuffing the other half of the scone in his mouth with a beady-eyed look at Louis.

 

“... Shit, really? Because I totally ordered him a tuxedo off eBay, thought it'd be cute for tomorrow,” Louis sighed, disgruntled. Niall perked up.

 

“Well. Definitely put him in it and spam me with pictures, but lord, Lou, you've got an obsession. Is this because…?”

 

“Shut up,” Louis snapped. “This isn't about Aiden,” he growled. “Tons of people are in love with their pets. They're family. So just stop, drop it, and roll on out of that way of thinking. I'm not so lonely I've started projecting onto a _cat_ , what d'you take me for? A pathetic loser?” Louis asked stiffly, a bit hurt because there was some truth to it, and it stung. So he compensated for losing 2 years to an unfaithful boyfriend by spoiling his kitten rotten. That wasn't even that weird in the grand scheme of things, so Niall could shut the fuck up.

 

Niall held his hands up in surrender and sighed. “Well. Sorry for touching a nerve there, that was pretty presumptuous of me. Sorry. We good? You still on for Lee’s Halloween party? I'll be there about supper time.”

 

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, relaxing and fidgeting with his apron. “Yeah. Sorry. Got a bit defensive there. I'll see you tomorrow around 6,” he confirmed, sipping his tea and rubbing his eyes. “And definitely will be sending you heaps of pictures of Harry in his tuxedo, thank you.”

 

Niall cackled in reply and left him a nice, fat tip, calling, “Get him a bow tie-- on me!” as he walked out the door.

 

~~~

 

Harry looked, impossibly, even more adorable in his tuxedo than Louis had imagined. If his cat had truly seemed uncomfortable with it, he would've stuffed it in his closet never to see the light of day again. Instead, when Louis called for his kitten, Harry came bounding over and leapt up onto the counter to poke his head into the box full of stuff for him. Louis grinned and carefully slipped the tuxedo on over his head, fixing the button and arranging his fur before adding the red bow tie. He surveyed Harry and just about squeaked from how cute he was.

 

“Holy shit, kitty. Niall is going to throw his mobile!”  Louis snapped about fifty pictures, Harry proving to be an easygoing and natural model. “You really aren't bothered. I have the best cat,” he sighed, and Harry meowed back like he agreed. “That's right! Harry's the best kitty.” Louis gently picked up his kitten and set him down on the floor, unable to stop smiling. “Such a handsome kitten!” Harry chirped at him curiously and swished his tail, beginning to rub up against his hands and getting fur all over his owner’s shirt. Louis didn't care.

 

“I have to go get ready,” he groaned softly, stretching out and scratching his stomach before heading to the shower. He left the door open even though it let all the steam escape. He had learned the hard way that Harry hated being left alone when Louis was in his flat. He'd tried to shower after work the second day and got a chorus of yowls and mews until he'd jumped out of the tub and tore the door open, half convinced Harry was dying. The kitten immediately silenced himself and padded past Louis, avoiding the puddle he was forming and settling himself on the toilet tank, peering at the shower curiously. That was Harry's spot now.

 

After thoroughly cleansing himself, Louis got dressed up as a cat, thinking it was hilarious. Maybe not the most creative costume, granted, but he'd put a lot of effort into making it look like Harry. He even had green slit pupil contacts! The final touches included the collar with a scribbled Harry and his whiskers, nose, and cat eyes. Niall was going to shit bricks.

 

Louis carefully undressed Harry and then left out his wet food for dinner, happily wishing him a good night and a very Happy Halloween.

 

~~~

 

The party was fun. He got a bit-- a lot-- drunk, danced with strange, pretty boys, had Niall roaring on the floor with laughter over his costume, and got the piss literally scared out of him when Liam jumped out of the shower in a werewolf mask while he was mid-pee. He even got a few numbers.

 

Around 2 am, he finally was exhausted enough to call it quits. After a round of goodbyes, Louis got a lift home and stumbled happily up the stairs to his flat, letting himself in clumsily and calling for Harry. Louis shed his shoes and put the kettle on, dying for a cuppa and contemplating heating up his Indian leftovers. Once he had his tea in hand, Louis puttered back towards his bedroom, surprised Harry hadn't come running but figuring the little kitten must have been asleep.

 

Except, when Louis got the light on after a few fumbled attempts, Harry was nowhere to be seen. A small pit of worry settled in his stomach, and it soon grew roots and blossomed into full blown anxiety when he started checking in all of his pet's favorite hiding spots and still found no Harry.

 

“Harry? Harry?” Louis called more loudly. “Harry! Where are you?!” He headed into the loo to check under the sink, freezing when he noticed an open window he'd forgotten to close after his shower, in an attempt to air some of the mugginess out. His heart sank like a stone, and he swallowed back nausea and frustration in himself, abruptly near tears. “Fuck,” he whispered, grabbing his jumper and shoving his shoes back on as he rushed out the door with barely a notice to lock it.

 

Louis methodically combed the streets around his home, ducking in alleyways, calling for Harry, trying-- and failing-- not to cry, a little bit. It was Halloween for fuck’s sake. There were crazies outside, people who thought cats worshipped Satan and should be killed. He was frantic at the thought, throat right around a sob as he grew more frenzied in his search.

 

“Harry! Harry! Hazza!” Louis yelled under park benches and behind dumpsters full of trash. He was very upset, to say the least. “Where are you?” Louis asked desolately, after an hour of nonstop searching. He finally, wound up and shaky, texted Niall and Liam: _haz got out i cant find him I CABT FIND HIM!!!! Hes going to get hurt its all my fault! :’( im the worst owner EVER._

 

Louis finally decided to run home and get the car; it was cold, it was 3 in the morning, and Harry obviously wasn't within a few kilometers of his flat if he hadn't found him yet. He stumbled home, hands clenched as he shuddered weakly. Louis was just about to head inside when a shy mewl came from beneath the steps. He froze, then dropped to his knees so fast he jarred himself, peering under the stoops and seeing big, green eyes. Harry slowly crept out, shaking slightly with a new scratch on his nose.

 

Louis seized him instantly, pulling him into a tight hug as he let his relief wash over him like a tsunami wave. He started sobbing, Harry meekly licking up his tears as he lost his shit. “You scared the shit out of me, you fucker,” Louis croaked softly, tears streaming down his cheeks, getting eyeliner all over his face. He didn't give a single shit. “Goddamn it, Harry, you could have gotten yourself killed.” He heaved a sigh and stood on shaky legs, carrying the kitten back to his door and letting them in. Louis immediately shut the window and texted his friends Harry was home safe and sound.

 

“Damn it. You literally scared me half to death,” he murmured softly. “C’mere, love. Good lad. I'll clean up your nose.” Louis lovingly gave him a chin scratch and wiped his cut off, relieved it was very minor. He was incredibly relieved, blinking slowly and stretching out with a tired sigh. “I dunno about you, babes, but I'm fuckin’ ready for bed, okay?” Louis nodded and pulled all of his clothes off, giving his face a half-hearted wipe off before collapsing into bed with an exhausted groan. He relaxed when Harry came creeping up to him, curling over his chest and rubbing against him with an appreciative chirrup of happiness.

 

“Yeah? I missed you too. A lot. You can't play me like that, Harry Styles. Not cool,” he noted in tired amusement, blinking tiredly and nuzzling into him. Harry gently licked his nose, and Louis sighed raggedly. “I love you, okay? You could've really gotten hurt,” he scolded softly, unable to resist chewing him out slightly. Harry nibbled on his fingers in reply, as he started grooming his owner again.

 

Louis fell asleep like that, snoring softly with one hand buried in Harry's fur, the kitten’s tail tickling his nose. He was at peace.

 

~~~

 

Louis woke up to something making him snuffle and snort, and he grumpily swatted at what was no doubt Harry’s whiskers. Instead, he got a fistful of curls. Groggily, he opened his eyes and stared fuzzily at a naked man draped over him. He did a slow body check. He definitely hadn't gotten off last night, and he didn't recognize this man. Was he gorgeous? Absolutely. But Louis was about 99% certain he hadn't brought a lad back home.

 

There was basically a Greek god draped across him. All miles of smooth, pale skin, pretty curls tumbling over his face, and pouty pink lips. Still, he didn't know who the hell this was. Slowly, Louis tried to ease out from under him, one hand already groping for his mobile, ready to dial 999.

 

He must've shifted just wrong, because the boy started to stir sleepily, grumbling softly and attempting to burrow into Louis’ chest. Louis shoved the stranger off and whirled out of bed, clutching a sheet around him with his finger hovering over speed dial for the police. The man stared up at him with brilliantly green eyes, mouth parted in sleepy surprise.

 

“Who are you?” Louis demanded, frowning. “I'll call the police! You fucking snuck into my flat to cuddle me naked while I was sleeping.” The stranger frowned, eyes widening further as he caught sight of his surroundings, and oddly, himself. Ridiculously, there were two cat ears poking out of his curls. “That was my costume, too,” Louis snapped, unable to resist.

 

Slowly, the man gathered his words. “Harry is me,” he said simply with a frown. “Harry has manskin, like Louis.” He stretched out, staring at his hands and huffing. “Harry doesn't have costume,” he grumbled, sitting up. Louis shrieked and yanked a pillow up to shove into Harry's lap.

 

“Stop fucking around, I'm seriously going to get your arse arrested,” Louis grunted, unimpressed. “How the hell d’you know my name!? And where… wait, did I hook up?” He was questioning his own sanity at this point. “You. I would've remembered you.”

 

Harry blinked at him.

 

“Where's my cat?” Louis demanded crossly, giving a quick peek around the room with one eye still fixed on Harry, frowning. “What did you do to him?! I'll cut a bitch.” The man sighed at him, clearly amused.

 

“Harry,” he said happily, pointing at himself. “Harry is me. Me is Harry.” He nodded like that settled everything. That's when Louis noticed the tail.

 

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas,” Louis replied faintly. “That's not a costume.” There was a naked cat man on his bed. How much did he have to drink last night?

 

“Harry,” Harry repeated happily, smiling at Louis and creeping over to gently headbutt against his belly. Louis stared down at him with wide eyes, incredibly surprised.

 

“What is going on?” Louis asked the ceiling, so startled and confused. “Why is this my life?”

 

“Lady. Last night. Lady, lights, petted,” Harry said slowly, struggling to find the words for what had happened. “Big fight, hiss, scratch. Lady came. Lady had light hands. Lady pet Harry. Said Louis’ name! Pet Harry more,” he hummed. The woman had appeared out of nowhere after he fought off the neighbor's cat from his yard, picked him up. Murmured some ancient words and noted the love that had been surrounding him like a physical aura. Harry liked that lady.

 

“You're trying to tell me you're my cat. As a… Mostly man. Because of a witch.” Louis stared Harry down, and Harry nodded. Louis nodded back absently, humming, then stepped into the bathroom to slap his cheeks and splash water on his face. Then Louis called Niall.

 

~~~

 

“That's right,” Louis answered, as Niall repeated his story for the second time.

 

“You're trying to tell me your cat is now a smoking hot dude with ears and a tail? Because a witch decided you were lonely and adored your kitten?”

 

“Yes,” Louis huffed impatiently.

 

“Sounds good,” Niall replied primly, beaming.

 

“Are you-- you're fucking high, aren't you?” Louis demanded suspiciously.

 

“Nah! ‘M just open to this shit. All these Irish curses and creatures and summat. Stranger things have happened.”

 

“Why did I decide to call _you_ instead of Liam?” Louis asked rhetorically.

 

“Because you love me, you fucker,” Niall chuckled cheerfully.

 

“Just… Thanks for being oh so helpful in my delicate time of need,” Louis replied drolly. He peered into the bedroom and almost dropped his phone. “Harry, you-- I… I need to call you back, Niall,” he said faintly.

 

Harry was relaxed on the bed, grooming. There was a tall, lanky man bent nearly in half, one leg in the air on his mattress. His tummy tucked cutely, cheeks rosy and skin soft, looking very satisfied with his bath. Harry was gently licking his own balls, a cascade of curls covering most of what he was doing, but Louis definitely saw his pink tongue dart out casually. Harry paused, looking up and blinking at Louis, one ear twitching as he cocked his head.

 

“God strike me down,” Louis muttered fervently, squeezing his eyes shut. “Harry, that's not polite to do with people around you. Okay? I know you're not used to your… Manskin, but groom in private. Please never, ever do that outside. Ever. You'll be arrested.”

 

Harry pouted, full-on cherub lip. “Harry was grooming,” he explained, in case Louis hadn't gotten it. “Smell like Louis.” An odd noise came from him, a low, rumbling purr.

 

“People don't make sounds like that either. Fucking hell, I need a cuppa,” Louis sighed, tugging on some joggers and heading for the kitchen. “Please put some clothes on!”

 

Harry emerged just as Louis was taking his first sip. He almost spit it all over the floor when he saw his houseguest; Harry was wearing briefs. On his head. And they were a dirty pair.

 

“That was most assuredly not what I meant,” Louis said quickly, setting his tea down. “Those are dirty, Harry, I wore them 2 nights ago.”

 

Harry peeked at him from a leg hole. “Smell good. Smell like Louis. Harry wants to smell like Louis.” Louis’’ face actually went scarlet, and he laughed nervously.

 

“Harry doesn't need to wear dirty pants on his face,” he said sharply, tugging them off. “Why don't we get you clean? You're still a bit dirty from your grand escape yesterday. Are you ready for a bath--?!” Louis blinked; Harry was gone in the two seconds it took him to put the dirty pair of shorts in his living room laundry basket. “Harry?” A crash from the living room. Louis swiveled to see the lad doing his best to hide in the top of his favorite cat tower, which was now sideways on the floor with Harry's face stuck into it, bum in the air and tail raised. Louis sighed. Loudly.

 

“Harry. You don't fit there any longer. It's just a bath, you'll like it better because you won't have as much fur!” he insisted gently, and Harry grumpily backed out of his ‘hiding spot’. The grumbly boy growled at him but stayed seated on the toilet seat like a good lad as Louis fixed up the bath to quite warm with bubbles. “And hey! You'll still smell like me after,” he coaxed the disgruntled cat man. Harry perked up almost instantly, smiling like the sun and wiggling his bum in delight.

 

“So no more pouting. You are going to like this,” Louis told him earnestly. Harry perked up in interest.

 

“Harry knows Louis grooms in there. Harry knows Louis likes the tub a lot. Always the grunt, rut, pleasure,” Harry said happily, looking pleased with himself. Louis just about rooted to the spot at the mention of his shower wanking habits.

 

“... Awesome. Yes. Yup. Okay. Yeah?” Louis replied a bit nonsensically. “None of that for you, Harry. Just-- just the groom,” he insisted, holding his voice steady as he could as he helped Harry sink the now drawn bath. He moaned in delight, another loud purr starting up in his chest as he sank into the water like a melting puddle of kitty. Louis couldn't help a small smile at the sight and sounds of such happiness for a simple bubble bath.

 

“Harry loves this grooming,” Harry sighed enthusiastically. “When to lick?” He raised a hand to his mouth, tongue poking out to taste the bubbles before he recoiled in disgust.

 

“Not, ah, no licking in a human grooming, Harreh,” Louis broke the news gently. “Never licked myself in the bath before, love.” Harry looked almost crestfallen but just nodded, obviously trusting Louis’ judgement.

 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Louis ventured to guess. “I need to go make brekkie, can you behave for five minutes? Please?” Harry nodded in reply, a bit of suds on his nose as he smiled at Louis charmingly.

 

“Harry will be good.”

 

~~~

 

Louis cooked up a full English, trying to distract himself. There was no good reason for him to watch the oddly gorgeous kitten boy cleanse and bathe, so he focused as best as he could on cooking and only burnt one piece of toast. Just as he was about to go fetch Harry, a sopping wet and dripping-bubbles man appeared, looking bedraggled and disgusted with himself.

 

“Louis said no licking it,” Harry muttered. “Harry listened.” The poor boy was wracked by full body shivers and Louis sprang into action clumsily, getting him bundled in his coziest towel and using a smaller one to carefully wrap his hair up.

 

“There we go. No tongues, just towels,” Louis told him gently, briskly rubbing him dry. Harry started purring as soon as Louis put his hands on him, which made him shuffle his feet and clear his throat. He took the used towels and heaped those into his laundry bin too, just as Harry suddenly pounced, pinning him to the sofa and settling on his lap. Louis froze, blushing very faintly. “What on earth are you doing?”

 

“Mark. Marking. Harry marks Louis; Louis marks Harry,” the happy boy rattled off, tail swishing wildly before he dug sharp nails into his chest and reached down to rub their cheeks together. Louis’ heart pounded as Harry proceeded to writhe and roll all over him, surprisingly sinuous and graceful. “Mine,” Harry said happily, once he seemed pleased with his work. Louis cleared his throat.

 

“Breakfast?” When Harry nodded, Louis pushed him off and practically darted to the kitchen to get a plate ready. He tried to hand the heaping portion to Harry, who blinked slowly at him, then set it on the coffee table for Harry to start delicately nibbling at the egg and devouring the bacon. He didn't touch the rest, just stared up at Louis expectantly from where he munched his own meal. “What?” Louis huffed defensively through a mouthful of toast. Harry grumbled softly and shoved the plate off the surface, growling. The glass smashed and bits of food went everywhere. Louis stared at him.

 

“You little arsehole! None of that. Nuh-uh. We don't play that game,” Louis growled, and Harry tucked his ears back with a hiss. Narrowing his eyes, Louis pounced, grabbing Harry by the curls at his nape, which made the cat man immediately go limp and floppy, a soft mewl escaping. “Bad Harry! Never again. No breaking shit. Did you want more food? You ask next time. You have a mouth and words, now.”

 

Harry whined softly and started rubbing against Louis again, apologetic. It was going to be a long day.

 

~~~

 

Louis was right. There were a lot of mishaps in the next three hours. Harry kept forgetting he was now in a humanoid form. He found a naked man sprawled out on the counters, trying to tuck under the couch, staring at out the window-- he'd shut the shades fast as possible, Mrs. Jennings from across the way practically pressed to her own window in her quest to stare.

 

They both had quite a bit of adjustment to make. Harry missed being small and furry, and able to get away with shit because he couldn't understand humans. Louis missed not having a very much off-limits cat boy draped across his furniture and constantly coming to rub and mark him.

 

Louis had to draw the line when Harry disappeared for thirty minutes. He found the kitten boy nosed into his private drawer, a condom dangling from one ear, lube on his face, as he curiously sniffed at Louis’ fleshlight. Louis watched, floored, from the doorway as Harry curiously stuck his nose right into the fuckhole.

 

“Smells-- good,” Harry noted, sneezing softly and sticking his tongue out for a taste, before Louis shook himself and barked out a command to stop.

 

“No! Nuh-uh. Harry, NO. _That's bloody well private,_ alright?! No. Bad boy!” Louis growled, and Harry immediately dropped it, tucking down submissively. “You don't touch that shit. It's inappropriate! Private stuff! Bad boy, out, out,” Louis grumbled, harassing Harry out of the room before he sat on the bed, counted to ten, gave his poor dick a quick, soothing squeeze, and started to put everything back in order.

 

Consent was exceedingly important to Louis. Harry still didn't even know the proper way to put on underwear. Louis was not going to bang his cat turned mostly human, no matter how beautiful his body was. It was wrong, Harry could not even begin to understand how to be sexual yet, even though his body was over 18, he was just starting to figure out his new mind, new body, new feelings.

 

“How ‘bout we go over appropriate behavior?” Louis asked cheerfully, forcing enthusiasm. He was fairly certain Harry wouldn’t enjoy this lesson very much. He was right.

 

“Harry can't sniff people?” Harry asked in displeasure. “Can't rub or sniff? Ugh.” He huffed loudly and flopped out on the sofa, nuzzling into Louis’ lap and rumbling his displeasure out loud and proud.

 

“No sniffing. No touching. Don't stare,” he reminded quickly. “Just. You stay by me and only talk when people ask you questions. Actually, let me answer. And you'll have to be wearing clothes.”

 

Harry looked up at him darkly, a mini storm cloud hovering over him. “Harry hates clothes,” he complained, digging his nails into Louis’ thing as he shuddered weakly. “Harry doesn't want to,” he sulked, growling gently in his chest. Louis delicately pushed him off, chuckling weakly as he stretched out and cracked his back happily.

 

“Clothes are very important, Harry. Why don't we go and try to put some clothes on right now?” Louis hummed, standing and pulling Harry along with him. The kitty boy followed crankily, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he whipped his tail around darkly. “Stop being a dickhead,” Louis reprimanded gently, smiling faintly and rolling his eyes as he settled Harry on his mattress and went pawing through his closet. There… There seemed to be a lot missing. He frowned. Louis had done laundry just this morning, but the load had been much smaller than he'd expected.

 

Harry was looking at him guiltily, biting his bottom lip with his sharp canines.

 

“Harry? Where are my clothes?” Louis asked slowly. Harry squirmed and ducked down, blushing and trying to go mute. “Nuh-uh. None of that,” Louis said sternly. “Where?”

 

“Harry has a nest,” whined the cat man, ears drooping as he blinked at Louis and tried to beg, all big eyes and pouty mouth.

 

“A nest? What? Where?” Louis was perplexed, grumbling gently and narrowing his eyes grumpily. Harry slunk off the bed shyly, blushing and creeping over to the closet in the hall. Louis followed him, getting confused now. Harry shamefully opened the door to reveal about half of Louis’ dirty laundry in a neat pile, with a Harry-sized divot in the middle. The boy crawled in, blushing, and he curled up tightly, tail gently swishing as he chirruped excitedly.

 

“Harry's nest,” Harry murmured quietly, gently kneading a pair of dirty briefs. Louis blushed, a bit startled, to say the least.

 

“Babes, no. These are all stinky and unsanitary, love,” Louis explained gently, and Harry whimpered at him. “No,” Louis repeated. “Come out of there, you need another shower now. We don't nap on dirty clothes.” Louis dismantled Harry's nest, occasionally having to remind Harry not to sneak pieces out and hide them under his bed. Shenanigans finally over, Louis stuck the clothes in the washing machine and rolled his eyes with a sigh. Harry actually pouted throughout his entire shower. Drama queen.

 

Louis helped him wash, carefully avoiding anything below the waist, and happily scrubbed his curls. Louis could've probably spent all day massaging conditioner into Harry's mane and listening to his happy little purrs and sighs in return. It was positively endearing. He helped the boy dry as well, showing him how to brush his teeth-- getting only minimally sidetracked by those little fangs-- as well as apply deodorant. Very typical human hygiene. Harry fussed until Louis playfully sprayed a bit of cologne on him, where Harry promptly went quiet and started sniffing it while purring, his whole body vibrating.

 

“Like that, do we?” Louis asked in amusement, as Harry rubbed his cheek against his wrist, pupils dilated.

 

“Harry smell like Louis,” he chirruped happily, tail swishing as he blushed and shuddered weakly, trying to lick the event next. He huffed and pulled a face. “No taste like Louis,” Harry noted in unhappiness, growling gently.

 

“Let's try some proper clothes now. Loose stuff, no tags, lovely,” Louis hummed, heading back out to his room and pulling out a soft pair of joggers and a loose tee shirt with a beanie. “Can be practice for if we go visit one of my friends. You remember Niall? Very loud and bouncy, tried to make you fetch stuff? Yeah.”

 

Harry nodded, and then grumpily let Louis help him into the clothes. He only relaxed once he was finally bundled into the sweats and shirt, purring sleepily and twitching on ear. Harry started to rub his cheek on the fabric, torn between grumpiness at the clothes and happiness from smelling so much like Louis. It definitely ripped into a strop when Louis tucked his ears down and carefully settled a beanie over his curls.

 

“No,” Harry growled. “Harry no like,” he whined, squirming around unhappily as he growled gently. “Bad. Bad feel,” he said darkly, tail flicking around snappily inside the pants. His ears were clamped against his head, his tail was trapped, and Harry accidentally scratched Louis when the man approached him too quickly. Louis withdrew, surprised, and Harry immediately whined in apology, crawling over to cuddle into his owner.

 

“Harry sorry,” he stumbled over the words, shaking slightly. “Harry sorry. So sorry.” Louis gently gathered up the trembling kitten, kissing his forehead. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf.

 

“Harry, you're fine,” Louis replied gently. “Barely even left a mark. I scared you. You're alright, gorgeous.” Louis sighed, carefully stroking his spine and cupping his cheek in one hand and preening softly. “You poor thing. You're absolutely fine, gorgeous. My sweet kitty.” Harry curled into his chest, sniffling gently, and then he licked Louis’ chest. Louis cradled him as long as Harry needed.

 

It took about twenty minutes to fully calm the hybrid down, and Louis felt a bit overwhelmed and quite sympathetic to the pitiful boy. He gently stroked Harry's pretty curls and started to lightly rub the tip of his right ear slowly between his fingers. Harry settled, a soft but strong purr starting up as he leaned up to carefully lick Louis’ nose. He smiled down at him, and sighed.

 

“Hazza, that was-- interesting, to say the least,” Louis said slowly, slightly cautious. “You didn't hurt me, babes. I promise. Even if you had, it was my fault. Should've realized just how uncomfortable you were,” he said gently, stroking his cheek tenderly. Harry blushed, and squirmed faintly in his lap, tucking himself up tinier and huffing shyly.

 

“Never wanna hurt Louis. Harry doesn't want Louis hurt. Ever,” he explains softly, cocking his head and twitching his tail once. “It's bad. Bad that way.” Harry slowly reached out and calmly grabbed Louis’ hand, squeezing slightly. “Mine.”

 

“Right,” Louis noted in soft amusement, tickling Harry's chin before giving him a quick ear scratch. “Did that feel good?” he cooed affectionately, eyes so terribly fond. Harry nodded, looking blissful as he snuggled into his owner, nosing his cheek and chirping brightly. “Feeling better, then? Why don't we try and go out into the yard,” he coaxed softly, smiling. Harry nodded again, slowly, reluctantly clambering off of Louis’ lap with a cute, little pout.

 

Louis led the hybrid out of the front door and down to the little stretch of grass, smiling at Harry's unhappy adjustment with clothes on and being forced to stand upright. There was a rather lot of clumsiness for those pretty legs. The kitty boy seemed content as he sprawled out on the little wall of the community garden though, looking like he was attempting to sunbathe in the meager sunshine coming through England’s infamous cloud cover. Slowly, Louis allowed himself to relax. That was a mistake.

 

Within seconds of giving himself a pat on the back, Harry was up, beanie tumbling off as Harry jumped the wall and took off across the garden, surprisingly swift. Louis watched in horror as his boy crouched and pounced on the neighbor’s cat, a scruffy grey arsehole that liked to shit in Louis’ windowsill flowers. There was a loud scuffling sound before the distinct sound of a hissing cat and human came reached Louis’ ears. He hopped the wall and hurried over to see what the fuck was happening.

 

Harry was on all fours, joggers slung low so his tail-- and half of his peachy bum-- were out, back arched and distorted, ears flat to his skull and eyes fixed on the fluffed-up cat. They stared each other down, low, growling noises escaping both. The grey one slowly backed up a step, showing his teeth, and Harry reached out, lightning quick, to smack the dirt in front of him, ruffling his whiskers but not touching the cat otherwise. Another yowl, and Harry snarled softly. The cat spooked, tail puffing up to twice its size, before it turned and took off with a final hiss. Harry relaxed immediately.

 

There were people, neighbors from his community, staring, people Louis didn't personally know but always got a wave or smile from. None of them were smiling now, just staring. In awe? Shock? Louis didn't care to guess.

 

“Harry hates that cat,” explained the hybrid, rather nonchalantly. He ducked his head and licked the back of his hand, blinking up at Louis, unruffled. “Tries to take what's Harry's. Tried to mark you. Smelled, on the doorstep. On the flowers. Tried to… Tried to rank Louis.” Harry blinked. “Nobody ranks Louis; Louis is top rank.” Louis blinked down at him.

 

“Please, let's go inside,” he sighed, eventually, pulling Harry's trousers up and grabbing the fallen beanie. “So that dickhead tried to one up me? He shits in my flowers on purpose? It's, what, dominance?” Louis dared to ask, leading Harry back inside, a weak smile plastered on his face as he waved very casually to the bystanders who'd just seen his hybrid humiliate a cat that obviously was getting too big of an ego for his own good. Seriously, when did his life get so fucking weird?

 

“Dom… Dominance,” Harry tried out earnestly, nodding. “Louis… Louis is…” He clearly struggled with his words now, almost pouting in frustration. “Louis is the big cat. Wins the fights, gets the prey. Mate’s first choice.” He nodded, satisfied with his explanation as he immediately yanked off the clothing Louis had made him wear as soon as the front door was shut. “No clothes inside,” Harry announced, dropping them in a heap and jumping onto the sofa. Louis picked them up and folded them to place on his dresser, head reeling.

 

“I'm the big Daddy alpha cat,” Louis stated, clearly not very convinced. Harry smiled charmingly at him.

 

“Yes.” Well. Alright then.

 

“I wouldn't agree with that.” Oh, a stormy faced kitty greeted that sentence. He hurried on to the next part: “Are you hungry after that? No scratches? Also, please don't do that again, outside. Where there's people around. Us humans don't challenge each other quite like that. It's a more subtle game. Okay?”

 

Harry's pout greeted him, but he sighed, “Okay,” nonetheless. Good lad. “Harry is hungry,” he added on meaningfully. “No scratches; Harry won!” Louis nodded and went to the kitchen to fix Harry a tuna fish sandwich with some crisps. He emerged with two plates, one for him, and one for Harry, about ten minutes later, but there was no Harry to be seen.

 

“Hazza?” Louis called, frowning as he set the plates down on the coffee table. “Where have you gone now? Honestly.” It was like living with-- well. A cat. A man-sized cat with a bangin’-- mostly human-- body and new people feelings but with still kitten instincts. It was a mess.

 

A muffled noise came from behind the couch, and Harry popped up.

 

“For Louis!” he chirped, muffled, brandishing-- oh fuck no-- a mouse. A very much alive, squirming mouse, hanging from his mouth.

 

~~~

 

“Buh Loueh,” Harry garbled through the fifth round of teeth brushing Louis was giving him. “Ith wash prethent foh Loueh.”

 

Louis had screamed, an actual, teenaged girl shriek, and smacked it out of Harry's mouth, dragging the hybrid into the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet, and then vigorously started brushing both their teeth. He gave Harry the biggest side eye the world had ever seen, then made him brush his teeth for a sixth time.

 

“That's not a present I ever want. Ever. Absolutely not. The toys? Sure, that's cute, charming maybe. Never bring me real live animals again. _Or_ dead ones,” he hastily added on as Harry brightened. The kitty boy immediately got sulky.

 

“Just a present for Louis,” he said sadly, drooping like Louis had just told him Christmas was cancelled instead of he wasn't allowed to hold rodents in his mouth.

 

“Louis likes money, power, pretty boys, fun stuff as a present. Not fucking mice,” Louis said darkly, gargling mouthwash afterwards for good measure, and then forcing Harry to as well. “Not ever rodents, please. And they have _diseases_ Harry. Don't put random shit in your mouth,” he scolded for the millionth time. “It's dangerous!” Harry just sighed and grumpily went to curl up on the couch after Louis finally told him his mouth was clean again.

 

They ate their sandwiches in a prickly silence, until Louis abruptly scooped some tuna up on his finger and reached it out towards Harry. He felt stupid immediately after, but kept his offering out.

 

“A present,” he said softly, clearing his throat awkwardly. Harry's face lit up, and he felt instantly better. He'd done something right, for fucking once. What a relief. Harry gently licked the tuna off, thoroughly cleaning his finger until Louis was bright red and getting a bit squirmy. “Thanks,” he muttered, pulling back and stuffing his face with the rest of his food, embarrassed and flustered. Harry just purred.

 

~~~

 

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur.

 

After showing Harry how to use a human toilet, Louis just threw out the litter box. He had no desire to examine its contents, and he was tired of finding pieces of litter stuck to Harry’s bum.

 

They played a lot. Harry still had the energy of a kitten, to say the least. Louis couldn't look away for five minutes without Harry either getting into something he shouldn't-- “Harry, please don't chew the sofa”-- or demanding his attention back with a needy mewl and big hands pawing at him. It was nice though. It was good to have company that could kinda talk back.

 

Louis was even happier at bedtime. It was awkward at first, because Harry insisted on sleeping naked, but Louis also liked to sleep naked on occasion. In the end, he put on briefs and crawled onto his mattress and under the covers, yawning. In seconds, Harry was plastered to him on top of the blanket, nosing at his neck and rumbling gently as he kneaded at his chest.

 

“Harry,” Louis mumbled through a mouthful of curls, chuckling softly. “You're squishing me.” Harry grunted gently and flicked his ear, whining and licking his cheek.

 

“Lou,” he murmured, snuffling sadly as he nosed at his owner. “Snuggle! Harry wants snuggle,” he whined, looking hopeful. Louis sighed gently.

 

“Okay. We can snuggle. C’mere, cuddle bug.” Louis wrapped his boy up in his arms. Harry melted like hot butter, licking at Louis’ cheek once before rubbing their faces together briefly. Harry touched noses to Louis in an Eskimo kiss, who went bright pink and breathless. Harry chirped and nuzzled at him, settling down tiredly. They fell asleep wrapped up in each other.

 

~~~

 

Louis invited Niall over the next day, figuring if he actually had lost his damn mind and was actually just hallucinating his cat had become mostly human, it was about time to find out, really. He figured Harry would get on with Niall well if this was still reality, too. His cat had loved Niall, so why wouldn't his hybrid? Naturally, because life had decided to really shit on him today, it didn't go according to plan.

 

It started out fine, Louis calmly let Harry know Niall would be coming over-- “y’know, the chipper, Irish fucker?”-- and Harry seemed totally cool with it, sprawling out sleepily and nodding. It was a different story once Louis opened the door to reveal one of his best friends.

 

“Hey,” Louis greeted, giving Niall a quick hug while sighing raggedly. “Isn't that my jumper?” he asked skeptically, stepping back to let Niall in. The lad smirked and shrugged.

 

“You left it behind during our last movie date and since Liam's are always too massive I nicked it. This is me returning it.” He shrugged out of it and handed it to Louis, who immediately pulled it on with a scoff.

 

“That is one of my favorites, you knobhead. I've been looking for it for two weeks!” Louis grumbled and sniffed it suspiciously. “How many fucking times did you wear it? It reeks like your shitty cologne and weed.”

 

Niall shrugged. “I was cold a lot?” Louis hip checked him and rolled his eyes, heading to the living room to try and find Harry.

 

“Hazza? Where'd you go?” he hummed, surprised. The hybrid had been right here a minute ago, and he would've thought the cheerful boy would've already ran up to say hello to Niall. “Can you help me find him? Maybe he's gone shy all of the sudden,” Louis explained to Niall, who obediently began looking around as well.

 

They got exactly one warning; there was a hiss from the closet before hell erupted in the form of a spitting mad Harry Styles.

 

“AH!” Niall shouted, jumping back as he had an armful of a growling, naked hybrid. He withdrew, hands up in surrender, and Harry snarled, an angry glitter in his eyes.

 

 _“HARRY!”_ Louis barked, whipping an arm out and grabbing him by the scruff. Harry mewled and went limp. “We _do not_ attack houseguests, especially houseguests Louis is friends with and likes. You understand me?” Harry meekly whimpered, basically gone limp as a noodle, all the fight out of him. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

 

“Niall,” Harry whined softly, dangling in Louis’ grip, looking properly scolded and apologetic. “Niall. Smell like Niall. Touched Niall.” He shivered as Louis slowly set him on his feet, immediately slumping to the floor. Harry rolled over onto his back and showed his belly off to his owner, mewling again. Louis sighed and stripped off the jumper.

 

“Well, I'm sorry. I forgot how sensitive you were to me smelling like others. Niall doesn't… He wasn't pulling rank on me, like that other cat, okay? Niall is-- friend! Good. Awesome even.”

 

“Stop, I'll blush,” Niall replied drolly, chuckling. “Anyways, so this is Harry? Nice to meet you! Don't worry, Lou has a penis and I'm not interested. Sorry I'm stinking up your territory, puffball.” He held his hand out for a handshake, obviously ingrained to show manners. Harry sniffed him curiously before relaxing so obviously that he almost went from a tiger into a house cat.

 

“Hi. Me is Harry!” he said happily, gently sniffing his fingers again before Niall got the memo and gave him an ear scratch. He purred and immediately plastered himself to Niall’s legs, saying a proper cat hello now that he’d deemed Niall no threat. Louis made note that Harry was apparently extremely territorial, wondering in an extremely sarcastic way why he wasn’t surprised.

 

~~~

 

By dinner time, Louis almost felt jealous. Harry played with Niall happily, catching the feather every time and still getting wound up when Niall started the game up again. Harry sat in Niall's lap often, and courteously never rubbed against Niall unless he requested it, which made Louis a bit pouty. Harry just did it without even so much as a by your leave to his owner.

 

At least they got on. And Louis wasn't crazy? So, double win, really. Instead of questioning his life, Louis decided to shut up and eat some pizza. He got into a game of _FIFA_ with Niall afterwards, Harry losing interest swiftly once he realized trying to catch the ball whizzing around on screen meant getting scolded by two rambunctious lads.

 

Louis couldn't stop his smile when Harry curled up with his head in Louis’ lap, nuzzles close, hands gently tucked under his cheek, gripping his thigh. A soft purr rumbled from his hybrid, and Louis sighed in contentment. Louis felt… Loved. Appreciated. Harry chose his lap to nap on, not Niall’s.

 

He could get used to this side of having a kitty boy.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS AND COMMENTS FEED ME :))))


	2. In Which Harry Attempts This Whole Human Thing-- And Does a Pretty Piss Poor Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's a bit of jealous twat. 
> 
> And Louis likes smoking weed and wanking :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sone of those tags up there will begin to make sense here, shortly

Harry pitched the biggest fucking fit in the world when Louis told him he had work the next day.

 

“No! Louis stay,” Harry growled, fussing softly and beginning to swish his tail back and forth violently. A low growl escaped him, tail puffed up to twice its normal size as he grumbled gently and narrowed his eyes at his owner. Apparently, he was in a full strop by the time Louis had pulled on his shoes.

 

“I can't, babes. I make the monies, so I have to go make them so we can stay in our flat with food, necessities, fun stuff. That's life.” Louis’ mouth threatened to twitch into a smile as Harry wailed sharply and tossed himself down, belly first, to the floor. He grunted and flattened his ears, eyeing Louis’ legs-- and Louis immediately stepped back. “Ripping up Louis’ shoes will not make Louis stay,” he rattled off with a poignant stare at the sulking cat boy. Harry muttered something unconvincing about how he'd just wanted to look. Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“No go. Stay,” Harry tried to insist hopefully, stretching out on the carpet and rolling over to show his belly. “Play with Harry instead!” He did his best pouty face, making soft, chirpy noises in his chest as he pulled out all of the stops. Louis firmly grabbed the doorknob.

 

“I have to go. You've been just fine with me leaving you the past month, might I remind ya?” Louis asked pointedly, and Harry whined, squirming around before shyly ducking his head.

 

“Harry went after Louis, out the window,” the kitten boy piped up. “Always miss Louis.” Harry sulkily rubbed his cheek against the carpet, his tantrum spent.

 

“‘M sorry,” Louis replied, more gently. “Y'know I am. But I really, _really_ don't think you're ready to try and come to work with me yet. You couldn't stand outside in clothes without trying to body slam the neighbor’s cat within five minutes.” Harry grumbled, a loud, huffy hiss escaping him as he abruptly jumped up and slunk over to face Louis. Occasionally, Louis saw true glimpses of the cat Harry was; now was one of them.

 

Seeing his sleek body move sinuously, gracefully, almost like liquid was nearly startling in its sensuality and intimacy. Louis found his breath caught in his lungs when Harry pierced a dark stare on him.

 

“Fine. But then Harry gets to mark,” Harry grunted. “Mark _a lot.”_ Louis’ hand was grabbed, and he gasped as he found himself shoved into the couch. Looking like a petulant child throwing a fit because he didn't get the toy he wanted, Harry settled firmly in his lap and rubbed their cheeks together. This, Louis was getting used to. Harry was constantly rubbing his face on things around the house.

 

Harry rumbled gently, a soft but steady purr starting up as the hybrid gently licked his nose, once, and then draped his body over Louis’ and let his warmth and scent soak in. Louis was stiff beneath him, still not quite used to having a naked, gorgeous cat man sprawled on top of him, writhing. Harry twitched an ear knowingly and sniffed delicately at Louis’ pits, huffing contentedly at whatever Louis’ body had unknowingly revealed. Louis swallowed tightly.

 

“You about done? ‘M gonna be even more late than usual,” Louis chuckled softly, voice slightly strained and raspy.

 

“Almost,” Harry said proudly, very pleased with himself. And then he _pissed_ on Louis’ thigh.

 

~~~

 

“No, no, no, no, _no,”_ Louis scolded, holding some of his favorite jeans in the tub under hot water with about half a container of laundry detergent for good measure. He was in his pants, scrubbing the trousers thoroughly, as Harry meekly sat in the corner, looking sheepish and apologetic. “We do _not_ wee on Louis. We do not wee on furniture. We do not wee outside! We only wee in the toilet,” Louis said for the third time. Harry nodded shyly in reply, whining quietly.

 

“Harry was just trying to mark,” the pitiful boy whimpered dejectedly, ears drooping as he played with his fingers and peeked up at Louis. Louis glared back.

 

“No weeing,” Louis repeated firmly. “You can rub your face over every square inch of my flat, but if you piss anywhere other than the toilet… So help me god.” Harry nodded, ducking his head and biting his bottom lip with his little fangs.

 

“Harry's sorry. Harry didn't think about it,” he murmured. Louis sighed and turned the tap off after rinsing his hands, leaving the jeans to soak.

 

“I know. I didn't mean to yell,” Louis said, after a moment of silence. He carefully gathered the hybrid in his arms and carried him back to the living room, holding a man-sized ragdoll that looked in pure bliss whenever Louis touched him. “You just startled me. Can't say I expected that. Not in the slightest.” He set Harry on the couch, the kitten boy grabbing up his teddy bear sadly, sparing a moment to text Nick he was going to be a bit late, and then found some new trousers.

 

When Louis reemerged into the living room, Harry was still on the couch, snuggled up inside of Louis’ largest, warmest jumper. He blinked sleepy eyes at Louis and whined sadly as his owner jingled his keys apologetically.

 

“I really need to be going, love,” Louis answered regretfully to a question Harry didn't even need to voice. Harry chirped sadly at him, looking devastated as he rubbed his cheek against the sweater paws the hoodie had given him. “You be good. Stay out of trouble! No weeing, keep the blinds shut, don't claw anything. You know better now,” Louis ordered him softly. Harry nodded, slinking off the couch to come and twine clumsily around his legs once, on all fours.

 

“Harry will miss you,” the kitty boy said solemnly. “Let Harry know if Louis sees the bitch cat. Will kick his arse again.” Louis barked out a startled, delighted laugh at that, giving Harry a final ear scratch and gently cupping his cheek before leaving his sad kitten by the front door.

 

He was really so fucking late to work. Louis briefly wondered if getting pissed on by your magical cat man would be a good reason for being tardy.

 

~~~

 

At work, Louis decided to bring Liam back to meet his boy. He'd gotten on with Niall perfectly, after the territorial mishap. So all Louis figured he had to do was make sure Liam didn't touch him too much and he was fairly certain everything would end up fine.

 

“You ready to meet my kitty?” Louis asked Liam expectantly, waggling his eyebrows and pouring a cup of coffee carefully, adding a shot of caramel, and ringing the bell to announce he was finished with the drink. “He's very friendly. Niall can vouch. Just-- a bit, ah. A bit possessive, yeah? That's all.” Louis laughed nervously. “But I'd still like you to come, if you can. We can get takeaway. Harry loves sushi; I found him with the container from the trash, trying to lick into it. Little shit.”

 

“Right! I wanted to meet him, Niall said he's a cuddly son of a bitch,” he laughed. “Aggressive snuggler, I believed he said, actually. To quote.” Louis smirked at him.

 

“He's an affection and attention seeker. But I love him,” Louis laughed a bit helplessly, eyes warm and soft as he fonded over Harry.

 

“Stop,” Liam groaned, shaking his head and taking a person’s order. He passed it along to Louis, giving him a very definite side eye. “You're doing that thing.”

 

“What thing?” Louis grumbled softly, giving him a soft glare and trying his best not to look too put out by Liam's comment.

 

“Anytime you talk about him, you get crinkly eyes, a big smile, and your voice softens by about 50%. It's disgusting, mate,” Liam replied in a chipper voice, shaking his head and smirking faintly as Louis slapped at him with a dish rag.

 

“Fuck you! I do not!” Louis insisted, cheeks burning as he studiously fixed up a frappé, avoiding even looking at Liam's stupidly smug expression. Fuck him.

 

“You do. Niall said the next time you do it he's just going to start gagging on the sweetness.”

 

Louis flipped him the bird and sighed, passing the completed drink along and dinging the bell again. “Shut up. Honestly. D'you want to meet him or not?”

 

“Alright, alright, fine,” Liam chuckled softly, holding his hands up in faux surrender. “But please don't touch me. Niall still has scratches and I don't want matching ones from your crazy, lovesick cat.”

 

~~~

 

They both got off at 5, and Louis steered Liam to his favorite Japanese place; the owner was a sweet woman who had her two boys help out around the restaurant. He got a couple sushi platters while Liam got something teriyaki and boring, and Louis insisted on paying.

 

He also got a couple extra vegetable flowers. It was the only way he'd been able to convince Harry to eat something other than meat and rice thus far. Harry was surprisingly picky for an abandoned cat, and insisted the only veggies he ate be pretty, although Louis had gotten him to try some melon the previous night; the sweetness had gone over well. Apparently, normal cats couldn't taste sugar.

 

“Thank you,” Louis hummed, after paying and accepting the bags of food, he drove home with Liam following in his car. After parking, he cautioned Liam, “give me two seconds to warn him.” Louis happily took the steps two at a time, opening the door and calling, “Harry! I'm hoooooo--” before he got the wind knocked out of him as a big, vibrating cat boy jumped into his arms.

 

“Louis! Louis, Louis, Louis,” Harry whimpered, rubbing up against him, pressing their cheeks close, rumbling gently as he clutched his owner tightly. “Harry missed Louis so much. Missed Louis. Missed Louis,” Harry challenged softly, puffing his tail up as he nosed into chest and licking at his throat. “Missed Louis so, so much,” the kitten said sadly. “Harry didn't break anything,” he said solemnly.

 

“Such a good boy. My good lad. Did so good for me today. So proud of you, Hazza bean,” Louis said gently, scratching under his chin and kissing his nose. “I brought dinner and a friend. Liam. Don't worry; he's not a threat. He's a friend, a nice guy. Annoyingly cheerful, but a good, solid lad. Is that okay?”

 

Harry nodded slowly, curls tickling Louis’ cheek as he unhappily, reluctantly got down. “Harry doesn't want clothes. No clothes,” he requested softly, tail swishing gently.

 

“You're fine; Liam will get over it. Don't touch the food, I don't trust you,” Louis chuckled, stretching and setting Harry firmly on his feet before popping over to the door and calling for Liam. Harry saw Liam coming past Louis’ legs, and got shy. The man was big, broad, intimidating from afar, and without thinking, Harry tried to squeeze underneath Louis’ hallway dresser, tucking himself low and shoving as much of his body as possible in the tiny space.

 

Of course, the first thing Liam saw was a pale arse sticking out from underneath Louis’ armoire, tail raised in the air, balls and dick on full display. Louis cackled at Liam’s burning ears and mottled flush, shaking his head fondly.

 

“Hazza isn't much impressed with clothes, Li, if we are being perfectly honest here. He really isn't. Not much of a fan in the slightest,” he hummed fondly, as Harry let out a squeak.

 

“Harry… Harry is stuck, Louis,” came a small voice from under the dresser. “Can't move.” He started squirming in earnest, ears flat and tail thrashing wildly as he struggled in an attempt to pull himself out.

 

“I literally can't stop watching you for 30 fucking seconds,” Louis replied flatly. “You’re crazy,” he chuckled gently. “Liam? Would you give me a hand here?” he requested politely. Liam, still an unhealthy shade of tomato, grabbed one of Harry's thighs while Louis got the other. With a bit of wriggling and adjustment, they got him loose. Thank God.

 

“So like… Where's your cat?” Liam asked slowly. “And who's this? I… Are you-- what the hell kind of kinky shit have you been trying out now? Jesus Christ! Is he okay? Are _you_ okay? What…”

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I fucking told you he'd turned mostly human. It's not my bloody fault you didn't believe me. He's not a sex slave, a prostitute, whatever. The ears, the tail, the fangs-- all real. So. Shut up.” Liam was gaping. Harry interjected cheerfully.

 

“Thank you,” Harry hummed decisively, stretching out luxuriously and clawing at the ground with a happy sigh. He tipped his head and stared at Liam scrutinizingly, sniffing a few times and measuring him up silently. Harry relaxed and gave a quick brush up against Liam's legs, obviously having deemed him worthy of staying and affection. “Harry doesn't wear clothes inside.” He meandered over to the couch and curled up in his usual spot, not sparing the men a second glance. Louis silently chuckled at Liam's slightly perplexed and somewhat flattered expression.

 

“C’mon in then,” he hummed, clapping him on the shoulder and steering Liam towards the couch. Louis brought the takeaway over to the coffee table and divided up between Liam’s and his own food, settling on the couch and smiling as Harry immediately shifted so his head was in his lap. “‘ve got sushi, Hazza,” Louis cooed, and Harry's ears twitched in interest, his eyes curious as he watched Louis hold out a dragon roll.

 

Harry stuck his tongue out and opened his mouth, letting Louis feed him a bite. His eyes widened immediately, a purr starting up in his chest as he vibrated softly against Louis’ thigh. “More!”

 

Obediently, Louis gave him another bite. He'd found out very quickly that Harry didn't eat very well unless it came off of his plate. The kitten also ate everything tongue first, even liquids. He had a feeling it was a leftover instinct. Louis also knew for a fucking fact it was cuter than hell.

 

Liam stared at him hand feeding his kitten, and Louis almost blushed, getting defensive. “Shut up, Payno,” he muttered with a death glare, taking a bite of a California roll next. “Harry, look at this pretty flower! It's made from carrot, and you can eat it!” Harry's body wiggled excitedly, and he let Louis feed him the flower, purr only growing noisier. “We like pretty food, don't we, Hazza?” Louis cooed, giving him a quick ear scratch before digging into his side of rice. Harry nodded blissfully.

 

“So,” Liam snorted. “He doesn't eat from his own dish?” Louis gave him a stern look.

 

“Not very well. He likes being a plate thief, don't you Haz?” Louis hummed, giving him a chin tickle that made the kitty’s eyes slide shut and his purr jump up 8 decibels.

 

“Harry likes Louis’ food. Louis brought Harry food. Louis is a good hunter,” Harry sighed admiringly. Louis-- barely-- resisted the ridiculous urge to puff up his chest and preen like a fucking braggart peacock.

 

“Yes. The wilds of Tesco and Waitrose are very hard to navigate,” Liam deadpanned. Louis flipped him off and gave Harry’s curls a quick kiss.

 

“You about done?” he asked softly, after Harry had eaten three more sushi rolls and another carrot flower. Harry nodded, eyes already going heavy-lidded as his purr became lackadaisical and drowsy. “There's a good lad. I brought you a dessert, though. Know you love the sweet stuff. It's called-- fuck… Mochi? Mochi ice cream. You really liked that green tea I let you try the other day, so…”

 

Harry was already interested, blinking up at Louis expectantly before opening his mouth like a hungry baby bird. Louis delicately plopped the green ball onto his tongue. Harry's purr fumbled to a stop as he chewed thoughtfully, before ratcheting up to motorboat proportions.

 

“Yummy, yummy. Sweet. Harry likes,” Harry sighed in utter contentment, gently nuzzling into Louis’ hip bone. Louis knew that was all he could handle: Harry had gotten ahold of an entire chocolate bar, downed it, and gotten sick as a dog (heh) because his stomach was ill-prepared for so much sweetness. Louis knew they had to take it easy on the sugars.

 

“‘M so glad,” Louis said softly, sifting his fingers through Harry's soft curls and giving his velvety ears a quick run between his thumb and forefinger. “Really. Sweets are very good, we just have to be careful not to eat too many or our bellies get upset. Don't they?” Harry nodded sleepily, cheek rubbing carefully back and forth against his hip.

 

“Yes. Careful,” he repeated a bit foggily, already more than halfway asleep. Liam pretended he was barfing at the sweetness, and Louis smiled winningly before darting a hand out to pinch the shit out of his right nipple.  

 

“Fuck off,” Louis mouthed aggressively. Harry stirred sleepily before dozing off with his face smushed underneath Louis’ shirt, cheek pressed to the bare skin of his owner’s tummy. Liam pretended to gag again, fondly rolling his eyes.

 

“It's just like… You're different around him. Gentle. Less rowdy. It's kinda nice, you're not a manic little fuck trying to grab everybody's attention. You've got his full attention 24/7 I'd reckon,” Liam told him quietly with a faint grin. Louis scoffed.

 

“You tryna tell me ‘ve gone soft, Payno? S’that it? Because I will punch you in the balls,” Louis snapped, then immediately quieted as Harry grumpily stirred, tail twitching once before he settled. “I'll kick your arse,” he added on more softly. “Fucking fight me.”

 

Liam rolled his eyes. “I would, but that would wake up Harry and you'd probably spent thirty minutes apologizing and rocking him back to sleep,” he snorted in reply, leaning back cockily and crossing his arms behind his head with a nonchalant smirk.

 

“Seriously. Fuck you,” Louis growled, carefully stroking Harry's spine as he sighed. “My record is a completely calmed-down cat man in 5 minutes, not 30,” he sniffed.

 

Liam fondly shook his head and gave him a faint smile, eyes soft as he ate the rest of his own dinner quietly. “He's good for you,” he said simply. “I can tell already.” He stretched out and set his container to the side. Louis and he watched telly for a few minutes in amicable silence, before Harry started to stir. He napped often, up to 15 times a day, but short. It was a cat thing.

 

“Did you enjoy your kip?” Louis asked playfully, lightly scruffing up those curls and making Harry's purr rumble out of nowhere, deep and happy.

 

“Harry did,” he answered cheerfully. The cat man stretched out and calmly dug his nails into Louis’ thigh. Liam smirked at his wince, and he narrowed his eyes before turning his attention back to his kitten.

 

“Good lad. D'you want to let me go so I can tidy up?” Louis asked politely, but Harry shook his head stubbornly, jumping up and gathering all the trash before Louis could do much more than blink.

 

“Done,” he chirped happily, eyes gleaming as he wandered back to Louis after throwing everything into the rubbish bin. “Harry cleaned.”

 

“Uh. Good boy! That was very kind of you,” he chuckled warmly. “Why don't you go say a proper hello to Liam? He's been dying to pet you.” Liam gave him a side glare but smiled as Harry obediently meandered over and sat in front of him expectantly.

 

“Hi there,” Liam greeted while offering his hand with a faint smile. “You're very handsome! Louis calls you his pretty kitty all day long at work and I can really see why,” he flattered, remembering that Niall had gotten scratched just for having his scent on Louis. “He never shuts up, really, about you.” Harry purred loudly at that, chirping as he obediently pressed into his hand and started gently rubbing up against him, seeking more petting. His whole body vibrated with it, and Liam just about melted with how cute the kitten was. He let his hands drift down to lightly pet against his spine, once, twice, three times, but halfway through the fourth, Harry's tail started twitching, and on the fifth pet Liam got bit.

 

“Ouch! Fuck!” Liam withdrew, recoiling, as Harry licked the blood off his lips, grumbling gently.

 

“Harry! What the hell?!” Louis demanded, scowling at his naughty cat and grabbing him by the scruff to haul him up into his lap. “Bad kitty! We do _not_ fucking bite people!” he insisted, shaking his head in bewilderment. Harry dropped his head, looking pouty.

 

“Too many pets. Four was good. Five too much,” Harry replied, clearly confused. There was a lot of communication going haywire between the cat and human part of him. “Tail flicked! Meant stop. Liam didn't stop. So Harry bites,” he explained slowly, frowning and cocking his head.

 

Louis sighed. “You know where the emergency kit is?” he asked Harry, who nodded. “Go get it and bring it back here. We use our words, not our teeth!” The kitty scampered off, tail between his legs and ears down. Louis turned to Liam with an apologetic, sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.”

 

“Guess we need to learn to speak cat,” Liam answered drolly, a faint smile on his face as he waved his bleeding hand. “Have to admit, Harry's point got across fairly quickly,” he chuckled. Louis snorted.

 

Harry plopped the emergency kit in Louis’ lap, wiggling slightly and settling down at Louis’ feet silently, clearly on his best behavior now. Louis expertly cleaned the wound with peroxide before carefully bandaging his hand, frowning. Harry had really gotten him pretty good.

 

Liam flexed his hand gingerly and then nodded and relaxed. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” he noted in gentle amusement. Harry whined and crawled over to rest his chin on Liam's thigh, blinking up at him with his big doe eyes.

 

“Harry's sorry. Harry thought Liam knew,” he mewled softly, trying his best to look innocent and cute. Unfortunately, Louis thought, it looked all too real. Liam actually blushed slightly.

 

“Oh that's alright,” he bluffed. “Barely even stings,” Liam assured, an outright lie. Harry brightened instantly though, so it was totally worth it.

 

“Harry won't bite anybody,” Harry said solemnly. “Hurts. Didn't mean to. Harry's very sorry,” be groveled convincingly. He pooched his pink lips out into his best pout, pricked up his ears, and fluttered his lashes. Little shit.

 

“C’mere, then,” Liam crumbled like a day-old pastry dipped in coffee, scooping Harry up with one arm and settling the boy in his lap. Harry chirruped gently and briefly let himself be held before squirming off to sit beside the other boy. Laps were apparently reserved for Louis.

 

“Thank you,” Harry sighed, stretching out so his toes tucked up underneath Louis’ thighs, tail gently wrapping around his waist. Louis smiled faintly and rested his hand on Harry’s ankle, holding it gently. Harry's purr vibrated the entire couch as Liam started scratching at his ears on the other end.

 

A happy kitty boy was certainly the best one to have around, in Louis’ opinion. Things went much more smoothly when Harry was smiling.

 

“You on for a movie?” Louis asked Liam, flicking on the channel guide and scrolling through a few titles. “Ooooh, how do we feel about Disney? Huh, Hazza?” Harry loved Disney films thus far.

 

“Liam, you pick,” he invited, tossing him the remote. Liam scrolled aimlessly a moment before selecting _The Aristocats._ Harry's eyes stayed glued to the telly the whole film, clearly entranced. Louis spent more of his time watching Harry's reactions than the actual screen, and his heart gave a little kick at that.

 

Liam's knowing gaze seemed a bit too much, and Louis squirmed under the discomforting weight that he seemed to be slowly but steadily falling for his bloody cat.

 

What a mess. His life was in shambles, and Louis couldn't even be upset about it. Harry was worth it. When Harry begged to watch it again right after the credits rolled, Louis didn't have the heart to say no. He put it on then showed Liam to the door.

 

“So… Are we going to talk about the fact you're going arse over tits for your kitty boy?” Liam started quietly as he pulled on his jacket. Louis scowled.

 

“Not tonight, Payno. It's only been a few days, there's no way in hell this is love. And he doesn't even, like, understand that shit,” Louis ground out, deciding denial didn't just have to be a river in Egypt.

 

“Alright, alright. I do think you'd be surprised, though, because--” Louis cut Liam off mid sentence, huffing gently.

 

“Please. Not tonight. I need some time. A lot of time. I might not ever be ready to deal with this,” he said firmly. “Now have a nice night.”

 

Ignoring Liam’s final, curious glance, Louis shut the door and joined his kitten on the couch as Harry started humming _O’Malley the Alleycat._

 

~~~

 

“So,” Louis started, clapping his hands together once and staring at Harry. “I think we need to socialize you to some more people. You've had Liam and Niall around the flat some, you got to meet the postman.”

 

That was an understatement. The second the mail slot opened, Harry would shove his hand in to grab it, and he’d nearly scratched Mr. Wilson the first time.

 

“But! We haven't actually left my block,” Louis quickly got back on task. “We've done a rather lot of practicing in clothes and talking, haven't we?” Harry nodded, settled up comfy, cozy on the sofa. “I think we should try to go to McDonald’s. They get odd customers hourly, so even if you freak I don't think you'll really even stand out that much,” Louis chuckled. “We can practice real quick with you ordering and then go try it. It's 3 pm on a Tuesday, so they shouldn't be horrifically busy,” he hummed.

 

“Okay,” Harry said happily enough, shrugging. Louis grabbed one his massive hands and tugged him into the bedroom, settling him on the bed.

 

“You showered this morning, but you need clothes and some cologne,” he decided. Louis grabbed out his favorite pair of joggers and an old, worn-soft green _Adidas_ hoodie. “These will work. Lots of room. Kinda.” He chuckled and threw them out on the bed next to Harry. The kitten sighed but pulled them on obediently, one ear twitching up as he cocked his head to full-on stare at Louis as he brought out his cologne. He lightly spritzed his wrist and carefully touched the pulse points on Harry, who basically melted as soon as the scent enveloped him.

 

“Always want to smell like Louis,” Harry murmured, eyes sweet and gentle as he sat obediently, waiting for the stupid beanie Louis pulled over his tucked ears.

 

“You're so good for me, darling,” Louis murmured, the endearment slipping off his tongue as easily as breathing. “So, so good. I'm so proud of you. Always.” He gently kissed his forehead, then unthinkingly stripped down to pull on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. When Louis turned back around, after fixing his fringe and checking his teeth, he found Harry staring at him, gently chewing on his knuckles. “Whoa, there, serial killer face,” Louis joked, and Harry giggled, jumping up. “Let's run some lines!”

 

He had Harry sit on the kitchen stool and practice saying things like: “Number five, please.” Just short, simple requests that didn't require any first person pronouns, since Harry very much still referred to himself in third person, and had shown outright hostility in trying to say I.

 

After about thirty minutes, Louis was fairly sure Harry would nail a fifteen minute Macca’s trip. If things went south, Louis figured he could easily get them out if they ordered to go. It should have been simple, but Louis was beginning to realize that with Harry, nothing was.

 

On the drive there, Harry got antsy, clearly not enjoying being in a car as he clung to the dashboard and stared at his hands, shaking.

 

“Hazza, love, it's five minutes away,” he promised softly. “You did a longer ride that first night I brought you home.” Louis reached out and gently squeezed his thigh. “I promise you're going to be just fine, babes.”

 

Harry let out a distressed mewl. “Harry hid in Louis’ pouch then. Too big for pouch now. And in clothes.” Harry's tail was visibly flicking through his trousers, and he trembled so hard Louis feared he'd crack apart.

 

“We’re here, darling,” Louis hummed soothingly as he parked, gently touching his cheek and attempting to bolster his spirits. Harry slowly released his death grip and sighed raggedly. “You're going to do so, so good for me, I just know it. I'm so proud of my good boy.” Harry visibly preened at his words, relaxing fully and blinking nervous eyes up at Louis, who smiled back reassuringly. “C’mon! You'll get to try their chips. Macca’s chips are the best, ever. They even have fish, chicken nuggets, whatever you want, love. Let's go; you can do this. I believe in you!”

 

Harry stumbled clumsily out of the car, already looking twitchy and a bit overwhelmed by all of the smells as he flattened his ears in his beanie and cautiously sniffed. He made a face at the stink of grease and sweat, but bravely grabbed Louis’ hand and let himself be led inside, stumbling on the shoes Louis had loaned him. They punched his feet and he was miserable in the rest of the clothes, but he wanted to please Louis.

 

“What d'you want?” Louis asked, scanning the menu as Harry surreptitiously sniffed a lady walking by, wrinkling his nose; she had _dogs._ Ugh. He crowded closer to Louis when he noticed the lad behind the counter was what he thought humans considered attractive, barely controlling the urge to rub furiously against his owner and hiss. Louis had said no marking _at all_ outside the house, though.

 

“Whatever Louis wants,” Harry muttered, keeping his tabs on everybody in the ordering area with a troubled expression. Louis steeped them up to the front of the queue and ordered two burger meals, a chicken nuggets, and a fillet-o-fish, handing his card over to the cashier. Their hands brushed and he chuckled softly, about to apologize and move on-- only suddenly he wasn't, because Harry had _fucking jumped up onto the counter._

 

“Mine,” Harry snarled at the startled cashier, crouched down with his back arched, teeth bared, and eyes dark. The check-out boy yelped and withdrew.

 

“Fuck! Fuck, okay, shit, it's on the house! Just get down!”

 

 

Louis wanted to actually melt into the floor about then.

 

 _“HARRY!_ Get down! NOW!” Louis snapped, dragging his kitten off of the counter and grabbing him up in his arms like the world's biggest toddler. “Apologize! Now.”

 

“Harry's sorry,” he muttered unconvincingly at the cashier, eyes still slitted with suspicion. The guy muttered he was going on break and disappeared. Louis felt every single pair of eyes in the joint on him and his cat boy, and sighed. A terrified woman dropped their food off and ran into the back. Louis threw down a couple tenners, grabbed the bags of food, and carried Harry over to the soda machine. He got them both _Coke_ , practically hearing crickets chirping with how silent the restaurant had gone. Louis sighed again.

 

“Hold the shit,” Louis muttered, passing it to Harry and lugging his kitten boy to the door. “Sorry,” he called back before letting the door swing shut and setting Harry down. Louis sat down on the curb right there, head between his thighs and face in his hands. Harry sat next to him, tentatively brushing against his shoulder and mewling.

 

“That… Did not go very well,” Louis stated what may have been the greatest understatement in the world. “At all. Did it?”

 

“... No,” Harry confessed shyly, pulling his sleeves up so he could chew on the edges and squirm. “Harry got jealous. Overreacted.”

 

“That's right. You can't just attack anybody who touches me, Harry. You can't. It's bad form. Very impolite and somebody might think you're dangerous and try to take you away,” Louis explained softly. “Okay? We don't do that. That was very, very bad. Bad kitty. We don't do that, ever, _ever_ again, you understand me? That's bad kitty stuff. And Harry's a good kitty.”

 

Harry sniffled and tucked his face shyly into Louis’ chest, shivering miserably. “Harry is very sorry, Louis. Harry wants to be Louis’ good kitty,” he whimpered sadly, gently mouthing at the soft fabric of his tee shirt. “Harry will try harder next time to be good. Good for Louis.”

 

Louis gave him a gentle ear scratch and sighed gently. He couldn't truly be angry, not when he'd obviously made a poor judgement call. “It's fine, Hazza. 'M not mad, just a bit disappointed. And you scared the shit out of me, to be honest.”

 

Harry's eyes widened and he delicately sniffed at his owner before his brows furrowed. “Louis did not defecate.” Very slowly, Louis face palmed.

 

“Harry. Honey. Hazza. It's a figure of speech. Me oh my.” Louis burst into furious chuckles, suddenly unable to stop his laughter at the ridiculousness of his life at this moment in time. Harry's soft giggle joined in, his kitten gently touching their noses together. “There's a good boy. Why don't we go home, eat this while watching _Tangled?”_

 

Harry immediately pouted. “No! _The Aristocats!_ Harry wanna see Duchess and O’Malley! Harry is just like Marie.”

 

Louis groaned. “Fine! Fine. Let's just go the fuck home already. Preferably before you get me banned for life or scar any other pimply-faced teenagers. Please.”

 

~~~

 

Harry was, surprisingly, a big fan of most of the junk food. He was not so happy with the tummy troubles it gave him.

 

“Louis,” Harry whined pathetically, curled up on the sofa, cradling his tummy and whimpering pitifully. Slightly concerned, Louis looked over at his belly again. It was definitely swollen, sensitive to the touch and kinda gurgly. It wasn't, most likely, pleasant to experience if he was being honest.

 

“I don't know what to tell you, Hazza. I feel fine, maybe a bit gassy and shit, but it's McDonald’s. My tummy has never done that after Macca’s,” Louis hummed, a soft edge of worry to his voice.

 

Throughout the next few hours until bedtime, Harry's complaints grew sharper and more insistent, his belly obviously swollen and so sore that Louis almost got bitten when he tried to touch it.

 

“Shit.” Louis was beginning to get drawn into panic mode. Pepto hadn't helped, antacid tablets hadn't helped, even Louis’ go-to tummy trouble tea hadn't helped. Harry was only getting louder and more upset, holding his stomach gingerly and moaning in pain from where he was curled up on Louis’ bed. Finally, he decided fuck it. He was going to take Harry in.

 

But… Where?

 

“A&E or the vet? A&E or the vet?” Louis blurted out frantically, as Harry's groaning grew high-pitched and in a tremendous amount of pain. Tugging his hair, he shoved one shoe on and hopped back into the bedroom while trying to stick the second on. “‘M taking you to the doctors! Right--”

 

He was cut off by a horrible gagging sound, a rhythmic retching heard as Louis fumbled for the lights. Harry had insisted on darkness to rest himself in. Another thick, throaty sound. “Harry? Fuck. Where's the damn light switch?!”

 

“BLURGH!” There was a wet, disgusting noise, and Louis finally flicked the lights on. Harry was sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he curiously peered at a pile of soggy hair in a puddle of stomach juice. He sniffed it, huffing in disinterest, then hopping off the bed, looking miraculously recovered as he strolled past a gaping Louis.

 

“You mean to fucking tell me you had a stupid hairball?!” Louis demanded. “God, that smells awful. Don't fucking chew your curls, Harry, I've told you a million times. Jesus, 've got to change the sheets.”

 

Harry stretched out on the pile of pillows and watched him, clearly feeling much better. Louis muttered something unkind about furballs and grumpily switched out the bedding.

 

He still let Harry cuddle him at bedtime, though.

 

~~~

 

“Nuh-uh,” Louis snapped after the third time he caught Harry trying to lick at his curls absentmindedly. “None of that. You don't need more hairballs, Harry.” He called the stroppy kitten over and sat him in his lap, kissing his cheek. “I told you I was ready to start drastic measures. I was serious.”

 

Harry obediently sat, playing with his tail, as Louis fiddled around with his mane of hair, cursing occasionally and accidentally tugging a few times. Harry didn't mind. Every time Louis pulled, his purr would get a little louder and he's arch his shoulders. After about five minutes, Louis exclaimed, “Ta da!”

 

Curiously, Harry turned to face his owner. Louis’ breath caught in his throat. He'd put Harry's hair in a messy bun, a few loose curls tumbling down to tickle the back of his neck as he cocked his head, eyes warm and so terribly affectionate. He looked stunning, ears shyly tucked back as he stared at his reflection when Louis offered up a pocket mirror. Harry preened and admired himself, emerald gaze glowing as he gasped in amazement.

 

“Harry looks… So pretty! Louis made Harry so pretty!” He twitched his tail and snuggled back into him shyly, and Louis was almost overwhelmed by the sudden, wrenching desire to kiss those soft, pink lips. He took a ragged breath and centered himself as Harry continued to look at himself in the mirror like a vain little peacock. Louis couldn't blame him; he couldn't look away, either. Harry was radiant like this, his collar on full display-- another stab of heat went through his belly at the sight-- eyes glowing, smiling so big as his lovely, chocolate curls cascaded into the messy, simple bun.

 

Harry was a sight to behold.

 

And Louis struggled with how much he truly wanted to cherish him.

 

He tried to take the collar off before, back when Harry first turned mostly human. He'd questioned how it even still fit, but, fuck it, magic. Harry had tried to bite him, growling the whole time, so he left it. Most of the time Harry's hair covered it, but not now, and he couldn't explain the flip flops in his tummy when he saw it on proud display now. Damn it.

 

Louis elected to ignore it and try to get on with the shambles of his life.

 

~~~

 

“Harry wants this,” came a soft voice in bed a few nights later, and Louis groggily sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He'd handed the kitten his iPhone-- the magic box, as Harry called it--  and told him to play quietly, while he tried to sleep. Harry liked most technology, and caught on surprisingly swiftly to all of the devices, although Louis had been grateful for his Otterbox case after the tenth time the cat man had dropped his phone.

 

“Harry wants what?” Louis asked, throat thick with sleep and a faint smile on his face as he turned his attention to his cat boy. “Hm?” Harry chirped gently, offering up the mobile. There were braids on display, so many different types, all from Pinterest.

 

“Please,” he requested in a small whine, blinking at Louis hopefully while fluttering his pretty lashes and beaming. “Pretty please. Harry wants. They look so pretty. Harry wants to be pretty.” Harry shyly ducked his head, squirming a bit and whimpering needily. Louis groaned, scrubbing his hand through his hair.

 

“Alright. D'you need it right now?” Louis asked, barely able to finish the question before Harry was nodding with big, round eyes, looking desperate and a touch nervous.

 

“Please, Louis! Harry wants it. Harry wants to look pretty,” he murmured meekly, swishing his tail and pooching that thick bottom lip out. Louis was done for.

 

“Okay,” he sighed, resigned as he sat up and chuckled. “Go get that box of stuff from yesterday, yeah? It's all the stuff the girls left behind.”

 

“The girls?” Harry chirped, grabbing the box and happily returned with it.

 

“Yea. Uhm. My sisters. They're younger. There's stuff in there I've accidentally collected. Hair ties, a detangling spray, some bits and bobs of makeup--”

 

“What's makeup?” Harry asked curiously, head tilting to the side as he hummed and stretched out luxuriously.

 

“Like… Lipstick, mascara, eyeliner. I don't really do makeup,” Louis chuckled softly, eyes warm and soft. “My sisters used to ask me to do them up, so I learned a wee bit, but not much.” Harry hummed gently, reaching into the tub and giggling.

 

“What's this?” Harry held up a colorful vial, entranced by the bright yellow.

 

“Nail varnish! I'm pretty good at that,” Louis chuckled affectionately. “Lot of practice, darling.” Harry suddenly perked way up.

 

“Matches! Matches Harry's shorts! Louis, matches Harry’s shorts.” Harry had recently assisted Louis in selecting a few clothes he would t despite wearing, that actually came in Harry's size. There had been a lot of loose, flowery shirts-- his favorite being a pink polka dot one-- and sweaters, a couple pairs of trousers, one pair of skinnies, and… A bright yellow pair of short shorts. When Harry had tried them on the first time, Louis had actually, embarrassingly, had a twitch in his pants.

 

“You're right! Good boy,” Louis chuckled. Harry bounded off the bed and ran to the dresser where his clothes were, yanking out the pair and immediately pulling them on.

 

“Will make Harry pretty? Make Harry match?” the kitten requested shyly, gently squirming as he blushed bright pink. “Please, Lou?” he murmured, eyes widening as he shivered cutely.

 

There was no way Louis could say no. He was frankly embarrassed by the fact that having Harry in tiny, banana shorts while begging made him instantly pop a stiffie. Jesus Christ.

 

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want,” Louis replied faintly, pulling Harry onto the bed and starting with his nails. He was slow and methodical, carefully polishing each nail and smiling as Harry's grin widened with each yellow brush stroke. “Now hold still. No fidgeting, or it'll smear everywhere.” Louis calmly moved onto his hair, brushing them out into beautiful, soft ringlets that tumbled around his face. Harry looked so radiant, so lovely.

 

His eyes were glowing bright emeralds, plump, pink lips smiling, cheeks flushed red as cherries. He was so beautiful, so, so beautiful. Louis gently brushed his cascade of curls off of his face, smirking shyly as he laughed quietly.

 

“You are so, so lovely,” Louis said softly, and Harry giggled in delight, squirming a bit and smiling back at his owner.

 

 

“... Harry. Harry thinks Louis is lovely, too,” Harry said cheerfully, twitching one ear and stretching out with a soft yawn. “Mmm. Sleepy now,” he murmured, turning and shyly nuzzling into Louis’ chest. “Thank you for making Harry pretty. Bed time now.”

 

Louis swallowed back the lump in his throat and settled back into his bed, pulling Harry with him and gently kissing his temple. “Sleep well, beautiful boy.”

 

“Always, with Louis,” Harry replied flippantly, and tucked himself into his arms, and into his heart. Fondness washed over Louis, so strong he nearly drowned in it. Then he went to sleep.

 

~~~

 

Louis was without a doubt beginning to get…a little bit sexually frustrated. He hadn't had a good wank in ages, and his brief but vivid fantasies about Harry were beginning to spiral into ridiculousness; it wasn't even necessarily sexual any longer. For fuck’s sake, he'd a two minute daydream about taking Harry to the pet store and holding his hand as they played with kittens. That's how he knew he was starting to get out of his depth, feelings wise.

 

Stressed out and snappish at work-- he'd made some poor guy with “fashion” glasses almost cry when he growled that faking needing them would be easier if they had lenses-- Niall had sidled up, cool as a cucumber, and shoved something into his pocket with a horribly off-tune, cheerful whistle.

 

“Trust me, that'll help mellow you out. Just… Lock Harry in another room for an hour,” he said with a cheeky wink before stealing the entire tray of muffins from the display case. A quick peek confirmed Niall had just put a small Tupperware container of weed into his apron. God bless that Irish fucker.

 

At clock-out time, Louis didn't even look back once he'd punched out for the day. He was buzzing to go home, see Harry, smoke a blunt. He practically barely touched the brake on the drive home, parking and hopping out as he locked up.

 

“Harry! I'm home,” Louis called as he swung the door open, already lightly keyed-up at the thought of relaxing in his room, music on with a fat blunt. “Where are you?”

 

A soft mewl came from the sofa; Harry perked up, peeking over the back of the couch before throwing himself off and bounding over to leap into Louis’ arms.

 

“Harry missed Louis!” the hybrid whined, squirming a bit. His hair was in a very sloppy bow bun, curls falling down around his face haphazardly. Louis wanted to kiss him so badly his stomach clenched and he anchored himself by settling Harry back down on his feet.

 

“Good lad. Think you can be a good boy for me a bit longer? I wanna shower, take a nap,” Louis said slowly, trying his best to make the lie sweet and not harsh. “Alone. Just for an hour. Yeah?”

 

Harry visibly drooped, narrowing his eyes crossly as his tail started flicking about wildly. “But…” He took a deep breath. “Fine. Know Louis doesn't like when Harry watches him shower.” It was true; he never got to wank anymore because his hybrid sat on the sink and stared holes through the curtain during every single shower.

 

“Thank you so much, Hazza. I promise we can do something fun after,” Louis swore, feeling giddy with the knowledge of what he'd get to do. His cock stirred, and he almost blushed as he willed it away. Down, boy. Not yet.

 

“Harry will always be the best boy he can,” answered the kitty boy proudly. Harry puffed up his chest and darted back to jump onto the couch, stretching out luxuriously and yawning as he returned his attention to the telly. Louis noted he was watching the nature show in amusement.

 

“Those lions remind you of yourself, Curly?” he asked teasingly, and Harry preened, loudly purring as he blinked at Louis.

 

“Yes! Graceful. Strong. Big mane like Harry. _Rrrrr!”_ Harry mimicked his best roar, and Louis fondly squeezed his thigh on his way past, smirking faintly as he shut the door and stripped off immediately. Louis decided to shower first, real quick, just to get the grime and gross shit off-- he hated the smell of coffee on him-- and then roll up and relax.

 

He stripped off completely, leaving everything in a messy pile of clothes before pulling the Tupperware container out and setting it on his mattress for safekeeping. Louis shimmied his hips to the music he put on, tapping Bluetooth on his mobile so that it was all he could hear. He happily turned the shower on, letting it warm up as he collected his towels.

 

“Time to unwind,” Louis sighed happily, stretching out and then testing the water temperature curiously; oh fuck yeah, just right. He smiled to himself and climbed in, pleased that the water was just a few degrees below scalding. “God yes,” Louis murmured, yawning and letting the spray hit him.

 

The knots in his back loosened up considerably, and he sighed in bliss as he relaxed and groaned tiredly. Louis scrubbed a dollop of shampoo in his hair, lathering up and rinsing it out thoroughly before doing his conditioner and leaving that in for a few minutes. He relaxed against the shower wall and sighed, groaning and slowly starting to work himself up.

 

His calloused fingers gently traced along the dip of his tummy, stomach contracting as he dragged his hand up to pinch at his nipples. He'd seen Harry's sensitivity there, the kitten always had hard nips from the slightest provocation, and he wasn't quite that into it, but it felt damn good. He stretched out with a muffled grunt, shuddering in excitement as he teased the buds into hardness. God yes.

 

“Feels good,” he murmured weakly, exhaling softly and running his palm down his torso, grazing against his slowly thickening cock. This was going to be good. So fucking good. It'd been a month since he's managed a successful wank, and he wanted to take it slow, savor, enjoy it fully. And whenever he got off while high, it was a near religious experience. Weed made him horny.

 

After a moment, Louis took a deep breath and slowly let it out, a faint smile twitching on his mouth as he carefully pulled his hand away. He lathered himself up with body gel that smelled like sandalwood and then slid a hand down his soapy torso to grasp his cock. “Ah, fuck.” Louis stroked himself a few times, shivering and biting at his wrist in an effort to keep quiet. He slowly released his prick and then stood under the spray, relaxing and rinsing himself smoothly, thoroughly getting every last bubble washed away.

 

Louis did a last check, ignoring his half-mast erection and climbing out of the shower to grab his towel. He slowly dried off, smiling at the muggy condensation that billowed through the room like a fog. He scrubbed his hair briefly, getting out a majority of the water and then patting his body down. Louis left the towels hung up to dry and happily returned to his room, checking briefly to make sure Harry hadn't come in while he was bathing. Smirking, he cracked open one of his windows; Harry had a bit of sensitivity to smoke.

 

He sighed and turned his music up louder, on his sex playlist, then sat himself down on his mattress. Louis pulled out a spare comic book and tidily rolled up a joint, smiling to himself. Yawning, he stretched out on the mattress gingerly, letting himself starfish with a happy noise.

 

“Fuck. Yes. Happy days, happy days,” he chuckled, using his lighter to light up the end and stick it in his mouth. Louis inhaled slowly, holding it in his lungs and loving the burn, before quietly exhaling through his nostrils, feeling like a dragon. Slowly, he took another drag off the joint, smirking up at the ceiling as the warm, slow feeling of being high rolled over him like a wave of sticky treacle. “God bless the Irish,” he sighed dreamily on his next exhale, smoke billowing from his mouth and dispersing throughout the room.

 

He abruptly thought of Harry, in the living room, praying that even the kitten boy’s sensitive ears couldn't hear past _The Weeknd_ blasting from his speakers. His thoughts, flighty as sparrows, went to the cat man, lingering briefly on the way Harry had tried his first ice lolly yesterday, bright red and cherry-flavored, staining his mouth a beautiful shade that made him twitch and struggle not to picture those same lips wrapped around his cock.

 

Louis groaned softly as his dick stiffened up, flat against his belly and beginning to dribble pre-cum in a slow drip. He grunted as he picked his erection up, licking his lips and trailing a hand along the v lines of his hips, dragging his fingertips against his sensitive skin. He sighed and shifted, pinching at his already hard nipples and squirming a bit as he felt arousal course through him. Louis groaned softly as he tentatively swiped a thumb over the flushed head of his cock, smearing his pre-cum down his throbbing shaft.

 

Unbidden, his thoughts flew to Harry again, lingering on the kitten’s gorgeous body, the strong planes, pale skin, tight, perky arse. Shivering, he bit his bottom lip, imagining Harry's pretty pink lips parting on a mewl as he nuzzled down, right between his thighs, peppering kisses… Louis gasped, a soft, ragged sound, as he fisted his cock and started pulling off slowly. He fumbled for his lube, getting open the sex drawer and squirting a tiny pool into his shaking hands, smoothing it down his dick and groaning subvocally as he enjoyed the newly-wet glide.

 

“Shit, shit, oh my _god,”_ Louis cursed clumsily, grasping at the blankets with one hand as he traced the other down to tug at his full balls a bit. “Missed this so much,” he sighed shakily, licking his lips and biting at the bottom one as he tried to remind himself to stay quieter.

 

He suddenly recalled that first day, with Harry, sleepy kitty, stretched out on his bed. He'd been bent in half, one elegant leg in the air, curls a beautiful cascade around his face as he lapped so casually at his own balls, soft and confident. A fierce bolt of desire ran through his belly, and he groaned, probably a bit loud, and started stroking himself faster now, slick and hot. His hips began to faintly thrust, his erection twitching as Louis imagined Harry turning that same tongue that had licked Louis on the cheek just this morning instead nudging up against his shaft. The texture was strange, almost rough, and Louis knew for a matter of fact that the feeling against the head of his dick would have him whimpering.

 

“Fuck,” Louis muttered weakly, biting at his knuckles in an effort to silence the soft noises of pleasure he couldn't seem to help escape his chest. He groaned, sound muffled, and began earnestly fucking into his fist. His head spun away on fantasies, all centered on Harry. He was so, so certain that Harry would be so happy to please him, so good with that beautiful mouth. Louis panted weakly, blushing hot and hungry as he writhed in his sheets.

 

All he could picture was Harry. Louis whimpered softly, his body’s reactions heightened and vivid from the marijuana soaking his thoughts, clouding his mind. He grunted, desperate and starved for touch. Louis fucked into his fist, breathing ragged and heated as he leaked profusely into the dip of his stomach. Trembling, he shut his eyes and turned his face into his pillow, biting at the cover and gasping weakly as he furiously humped forwards.

 

“I want you, baby. Want you so badly,” Louis murmured dreamily, cock twitching in his hand as he furiously thrusted. He was getting into it now, feeling himself, hips rocking up as he planted his feet on the bed to steady himself. He realized, distantly, that he was really starting to get rather vocal, all of these breathy sighs, grunts, and groans. He couldn't even help it. Louis realized he was feverishly chanting, “Yes!”

 

Fuck it. Louis gasped and threw his head back, enthusiastically moaning. “Fuck, fuck, so good,” he panted, stroking himself faster now, the wet, rhythmic slap of him wanking spurring him on. Louis felt so-- out of it, so floaty. He shouted loudly, hips stuttering, and the vicious crest of his orgasm slammed all of the breath out of his body. Louis swore his eyes rolled back in his head, he came so hard. Sticky, hot, and wet strings of cum spurted all over his tummy, and he weakly shuddered, hand slowing as he pumped the rest of his load out onto his stomach and over his fist. He'd come so much, so hard, there were splashes all the way up to his collarbone, masking a bit of his **_It Is What It Is_** tattoo.

 

God. Louis felt drunk, or maybe like he was drowning. He let himself go limp as a ragdoll and sprawl across his bed like a starfish, smiling faintly as he shut his eyes and let the last, lazy waves of pleasure wash over him in gentle rolls. He tingled in the best way, sighing softly and letting his eyes shut as he reveled in his high, in his wonderful, powerful orgasm. Clumsily, he groped for his ashtray, taking a shaky inhale and blowing all of the smoke out in a big breath. He made sure he set the spliff back in the safety of the tray.

 

Then he got woozy. Louis laughed slowly, feeling heavy and slow, weighted. He could've sworn he heard the door creep open, but when he managed to summon the energy to look, it was still closed. He closed his eyes tiredly, taking a slow breath. Then Louis passed out. Down for the count, not so much as a by your leave, dead to the world.

 

~~~

 

Louis was groggy waking back up. He kept his eyes closed, slowly regaining a sense of himself. There was… Movement, steady, almost rhythmic. On his chest, mostly, kinda on his stomach, definitely torso area. And-- sound. Wet, but raspy. And a very faint purr.

 

He jolted awake, fully alert. Harry was perched over him, settled firmly on his thighs. The kitten looked gorgeous, pink cheeks and bright eyes as he licked his lips and smiled down at Louis. He smiled back automatically, then froze as Harry bent down to continue what he'd been doing. Which was, apparently, licking up every drop of cum off of Louis. His entire torso had been cleaned by Harry's pink, pretty tongue.

 

“Uh?” Louis gasped, startled. His face went bright red, the flush traveling down his neck to his chest as he stared, open-mouthed, at his hybrid. Harry giggled, licking his lips clean and chirping.

 

“Harry liked! Does Louis have more?” Harry's eyes went straight for his cock, obviously able to figure out where the little “treat” had come from. Louis guessed it was because of his superior smell. Then Louis unfroze.

 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Harry!” Louis squawked, flapping his hands uselessly and trying to look anywhere _but_ Harry's swollen mouth curled into a faint smirk. “I, you. We? Oh my _god,”_ he groaned weakly, flushed and unsteady. Jesus Christ, he was still higher than a kite. He was not prepared for a naked Harry Styles in his own very naked lap, with irritated lips and his mouth having been freshly tasting his fucking cum.

 

“Louis?” Harry replied blithely, very clearly unbothered.

 

“Oh my god,” Louis said emphatically for a fourth time. “Harry, you can't just… Oh fuck,” he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face and blushing all over again. “That was Louis’ private time,” he whined softly, blinking at him beseechingly. “Very private. I understand you may have urges,” he hummed, eyes skittering over the very obvious erection Harry sported after cleaning him up with his tongue. “But you have to learn to deal with them. Understand what you like. How to please yourself. This was… Soooo inappropriate.”

 

Harry drooped cutely, whimpering. “Harry just wanted to help Louis. Harry's sorry.” Louis managed a weak smile in reply.

 

“It's okay. Really. But, just. You need to learn how to be human, yeah? Really get the differences. Understand yourself. This was a private time for me.” Louis was proud of how steady he sounded, considering his brain was screaming softly about a naked fucking Harry in his lap, enjoying the taste of his cum. Louis would _never_ take advantage, though. He was relieved to know that.

 

“Harry… Harry will. Explore himself. Figure out humans,” the kitten replied solemnly.

 

“I don't want to project. Or force you into things. It's… We speak different languages some days. So. We need to be careful,” Louis explained slowly. Then he gave Harry a gentle ear scratch. “‘M’not angry. Just… We took things a bit fast here. Need to get you sorted, first. Before anything. Can, like. Happen.” He wasn't even sure what he was referring to at this point, but he wasn't going to take this as Harry liking him. Animals were drawn to musky smells and often stuck shit in their mouth they weren't supposed to. Hell, he knew of dogs who deliberately went after genitals because they smelled fun; who's to say Harry hadn't done the same, just going on instinct?

 

Harry nodded shyly. “Yes, Louis. Harry understands. Louis is silly, sometimes, but Louis always knows best.” His heart melted a bit at that.

 

“I always try to put you first. Y'know? Now… I think we should get some dinner. I'll order a pizza; fuck cooking.”

 

~~~

 

Louis dressed himself awkwardly, feeling Harry's newly weighted gaze on him as he covered up. They ate pizza curled oh the couch, watching a nature documentary on cheetahs. Louis idly decided he really should do some research on cat behavior.

 

He also pointedly ignored the urge to kiss Harry senseless when the kitten got very excited over the tiny cubs on screen, only a few weeks old and mewling quietly. Now that he'd seen those lips bruised up from licking his body, the hunger was nearly unstoppable. And, yet, he did.

  
Fuck love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS AND COMMENTS FEED ME <3


	3. In Which Louis Finally Fucking Realizes He's Been an Oblivious Dick, in the Words of Niall Horan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, something happens because Louis has an epiphany.
> 
> About love. A loviphany, if you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this fic is just one long indulgence of me?

Nick pinned him to the counter the second Louis got into work, and Louis grumbled and struggled with what was half-hearted alarm. No doubt it was another game of lovebite tag. Louis idly wondered why his coworkers-- and friends, Niall was a fucking menace at this game-- were so bloody weird.

 

“Hold still,” Nick grumbled darkly. “Liam tagged me 30 minutes ago. You should get Niall. That arse actually ate an entire tray of muffins the other day. I actually recall _you_ being the one who let ‘im get away with it, too,” he snorted, pressing his mouth to Louis’ neck and getting it over with in about 10 seconds. Louis had made it quite clear he wouldn't tolerate any longer, and was rarely made to play-- except on days where they needed to nab Niall.

 

Louis managed to pass on the lovebite when Niall came in for his daily steal of at least two scones, and Louis forgotten about the stupid game of tag until he got home.

 

~~~

 

“Hazza,” he called, stepping in the door and humming grandly. “I brought… _cream!_ Kinda. They're cream puffs. Just a couple, don't want you getting sick,” Louis preened, unwinding his scarf, taking off his coat, and smiling as Harry immediately came bounding out of his room while chirruping a cheerful hello. The kitten stopped in his tracks moments before jumping into Louis’ arms, eyes going dark and expression turning stormy. Louis cleared his throat awkwardly, chewing on his bottom lip. “... Harry? Baby?”

 

Harry vocalized something not really very human, a low, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate from his chest instead of his throat. He prowled forwards, tail tip twitching in agitation, as he briefly circled his owner and scoffed. “Harry smells other. Louis always scents of others, but this is strong. Touched you.” He felt the weight of Harry's gaze settle on the small mark on his neck. “Somebody _hurt_ Louis.” Oh. Shit.

 

Harry pounced, pushing Louis back onto the sofa and snarling softly as he gave a shrewd glare at his lovebite. His tail puffed up ridiculously, and he grumpily leaned in to lick at the mark, like he was hoping it would come off with a thorough grooming. Louis stayed quiet for the moment; Harry looked like he meant very serious business as he deliberately rubbed himself against Louis, trying to reclaim his scent.

 

“Louis… Louis smells of other,” Harry growled lowly, flattening his ears grumpily and beginning to writhe against his owner. “Louis was hurt! Bites! Bad!” Harry whined in frustration, nails digging into Louis’ chest as he squirmed and whimpered sadly and gently headbutted into his cheek. “Louis… Louis,” the kitten growled, licking at the lovebite again. Louis felt frozen.

 

“I… Fuck, babe. Jesus. It's okay, you're totally overreacting, darling. It was just a game. Just a silly, stupid game,” he reassured as gently as he could while cooing and stroking a hand through his curls in an effort to calm the panicky and agitated kitten boy down. “It's fine. Didn't even hurt,” he murmured, as Harry sniffled softly and blinked up at him.

 

“Don't let bad people touch you and scent you. Harry doesn't like it, Lou,” he whined softly. “Please. Harry's begging. Please.” He curled tightly into Louis’ lap with a gentle hiccup, rubbing his eyes and blushing bright pink. Louis felt awful. He hadn't realized just how much Harry couldn't stand others touching him. At least, not since the McDonald’s incident, anyways.

 

“It's okay, baby. My good boy,” Louis sighed softly, stroking Harry's cheek and trying his best to soothe the upset hybrid. “I won't. I'll be more mindful. I swear it.” He gently scratched at Harry's ears, kissing his cheek and letting the cat man drape himself over him like Harry was a living, breathing blanket. They sat like that for twenty minutes, Louis knowing better than to fidget or complain when Harry was feeling so vulnerable. It would be cruel.

 

“Harry's… Harry's better now. Better,” he murmured shakily, sniffling and squishing his cheek to Louis’. Just as he was sure the kitten was about to climb off of him, he felt sharp teeth dig into his neck over the lovebite, a new, just straight up nip placed over it. Louis blushed, and Harry pulled away smirking like he knew he'd just set a ton of butterflies free in his owner’s tummy.

 

“I-- okay. Uh. Let's, let’s feed you those cream puffs, shall we?” Louis stuttered softly, chees blazing as he casually fed Harry one of the sweet treats. The kitten boy purred loudly the second the flavor exploded on his tongue, arching up and lickings on the dribbling cream off of Louis’ fingers. Louis swallowed tightly, tensing up and reaching for the second pastry with a nervous look in his eyes. Harry ate this one more slowly, clearly savoring the taste as he shut his eyes and rumbled up a satisfied purr.

 

“S’that good, Hazza? Know you like your sweets,” Louis murmured, voice going a wee bit husky. He swallowed again, clearing his throat and grabbing for the last cream puff almost desperately. “Have the last one,” He offered it almost gingerly, but Harry behaved himself, just took it up delicately from his owner’s hand before beginning to nibble on it.

 

“Very good,” Harry sighed, licking his lips and taking slow bites to truly appreciate the flavor. The thick filling abruptly squirted out of the hole in the dough, dripping down Harry's chin-- and Louis excused himself to the loo. Fuck that. Unfortunately, that's exactly what he wanted to do. Louis splashed some water on his face briefly, dried off, took a few fortifying breaths, and went back out, refusing to look at Harry. But then he glanced, by accident.

 

Harry was clearly happy, licking up all traces of the sweet treat from himself and occasionally dipping lower to groom some, ah, sensitive parts of his anatomy. In short, he watched, fish-mouthed, as Harry casually cleaned his cock.

 

“I think we should go on a picnic for dinner,” he announced, practically running to the kitchen. “Please, finish your groom _in private.”_ You menace, Louis added in his head, busying himself with sandwich making. Harry's answering chirp came from behind the couch, along with licking sounds. Awesome.

 

~~~

 

Louis decided that his favorite spot by a local lake would be an absolutely grand place to take Harry on a picnic. It was secluded, there was a truly beautiful view, and he knew the kitten would appreciate the sights and sounds of nature. Bonus: they could even walk there, since Harry was still a bit carsick in moving vehicles.

 

“You all set?” Louis asked gently at the door. He'd assisted Harry, bundling him up in jeans, a loose, women’s blouse, a pea coat, boots, and a scarf. Louis decided not to cover his ears, since he was crossing his fingers they'd mostly be out of the public’s eyes. He looked absolutely precious, and he resisted the urge to kiss him, just barely.

 

“Harry's good.” He was smiling so wide it looked like it hurt, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. He held the picnic basket clutched in his hands, waiting demurely by Louis’ coat rack for further instruction, even though he was gently bouncing in excitement.

 

“Let's go then,” Louis chuckled with an affectionate, little sigh, gently taking Harry's hand. It didn't feel weird, because Harry wouldn't see it as a couple thing, even though strangers might. Louis figured this would go over better than clipping a leash to Harry’s collar, at any rate. That would probably get him more than a few dirty looks from some unflappable nans. That might get him downright arrested for public indecency.

 

“Okay,” Harry chirped, twining their fingers casually, even though Louis’ heart stuttered and probably skipped a few beats at the gesture. He swallowed tightly and guided Harry out, pausing briefly to lock the door behind them.

 

“If your arm gets tired, sweetheart, let me know, yeah? I'll carry the basket.” He smiled faintly and gently scratched behind Harry's right ear, making him arch up and purr at him luxuriously. Louis chuckled faintly and started leading them towards the park. He educated Harry on cars again, since the cat man nearly darted across the busy street after a blowing newspaper. Louis also got to explain crosswalks to him, and that crowds of people were to be avoided when Harry had his cat ears out.

 

The girls found them anyways.

 

“Oh! Look at his ears!” Louis stopped, pulling Harry with him, and gently pushed the hybrid behind him.

 

“He's shy, ladies, please don't crowd,” he said in what he hoped was friendly sternness. “Harry? Do you want to meet them?” he murmured to the kitten, who peeked out from behind Louis fairly easily and nodded meekly. “He wants to say hello. Please don't touch me, he hates that,” Louis said bracingly, as Harry emerged and greeted them like they'd been practicing.

 

“Harry says hello,” he giggled, biting his bottom lip, making one of the teens squeak about his little fangs. “Harry doesn't, uhm, mind a quick pet,” he reassured, eyes soft and sweet. The girls respectfully gave him a pat each, and a few got hugs. One of them accidentally stumbled back into Louis, but Harry visibly forced himself not to react; they'd been working on the jealous outbursts. Louis couldn't go his whole life without touching another person, by accident or not. Jesus, taking the tube meant contact with at least twenty people right there.

 

“Thank you for meeting with us, Harry,” the leader hummed, ushering back her group and waving a goodbye after a final selfie.

 

“Looks like you're somewhat of a local celebrity, Curly,” Louis noted in amusement. “Maybe we can let your tail--” before he could even finish his sentence, Harry had eagerly clawed a hole in his trousers and pulled his tail through, looking unbelievably satisfied. Louis resisted the urge to facepalm. “Let's go, before another herd appears,” he chuckled fondly, and Harry eagerly trailed him.

 

Blissfully, the rest of the walk was uninterrupted and easy, a nice stroll along a small path until Louis paused on the giant, purple flower bush that marked the start of his ‘secret’ hideaway. He guided Harry around shrubs, through brambles, over roots, and under tree limbs until they come upon the small clearing facing the lake where Louis had spent many a day doing homework in his youth. He smiled to see it.

 

Harry was staring in awe at the piles of fallen leaves, so many warm, rich colors on the chilly, cloudless day. Louis shook out his best blanket and set the basket on it, beginning to unpack. It was almost romantic, really. It looked nice, a nice picnic spread out in front of gorgeous late fall scenery. He turned to ask Harry if he was enjoying the secret spot-- but the kitten had taken off, creeping very unsubtly towards a flock of pigeons. Louis watched, open-mouthed, as Harry let out a banshee war cry and jumped into the flock, which took off in in a whirl of panic and dusty grey feathers.

 

“Well… Uh. That seemed fun?” Louis offered as Harry returned, beaming proudly and brandishing a fistful of mucky pigeon feathers. “Thank you so much,” he sighed in soft amusement as Harry shyly handed him the bundle of dirty fluff. Harry chirped and settled himself down on the blanket, waiting obediently as Louis passed him a plate with a tuna fish sandwich, some crisps, and apple slices on it. He'd made sure to decorate the apples in the shape of a flower so the kitten would actually be tempted to eat them.

 

“And have some fun juice,” Louis offered, handing him a very small glass of white wine. Harry took it delicately, sticking his tongue out and lapping it up. Some days, Harry still struggled with drinking. It was cute, though, so, Louis didn't find himself really minding too terribly much.

 

“Harry likes,” the cat man enthused happily, sitting quietly and mosing into his glass with a shy, sweet smile. “Harry likes a rather lot.” Harry stretched out gracefully once he'd managed to eat most of Louis’ meal, purring sleepily and accepting the last few crisps Louis deigned to feed him. Louis wondered when he'd become so whipped. Niall had almost gotten stabbed with a fork once for daring to try and take something off his plate. Now he willingly hand fed his dish away.

 

“You sleepy, kitty?” Louis asked gently. “I brought a little bit of sweets. There's a jam tart, I stole it from Nick’s private store.” He broke the pastry in two, letting Harry nibble it from his hand and happily lick all traces of the thick jelly off his fingers, Louis’ cheeks burning the entire time.

 

“Thank you, Louis. Harry likes it here,” Harry purred drowsily, resting his cheek on his boy’s thigh as a loud purr rumbled up from his broad chest. It was nice, almost intimate, to have Harry with his ears and tail out in broad daylight in what was arguably a public area, even if their particular spot was more secluded. Louis let Harry get some energy out by racing back and forth along the shore while chattering at the lazy flock of ducks. It was the strangest noise coming from a Harry, but Louis had heard it before from cats growing up, trapped behind glass and frustrated they couldn't have a go at the birds.

 

Louis casually mentioned he'd brought Harry's pretty box, and Harry perked up, begging for a messy, bow bun, and pretty pink nail varnish, purring loudly and talking about how it matched his collar. Then they lounged around, Louis reading while Harry occupied himself with chasing lady bugs.

 

They finally packed up once the sun started to properly meander towards setting, Harry beginning to shiver until Louis wrapped him up snugly in his scarf again. The little kitten preened where Louis touched him, giving him a bright smile with even brighter eyes as Louis set their course for home. It had been a truly lovely afternoon, and probably would've gone down in Louis’ top 5 favorite days ever if it weren't for the giant twat who decided to stop them just a block or so from their flat.

 

“OI,” spouted off an ugly, drunken tosser, stumbling out the closest pub, bolstered by his equally smashed mates. “That's not a girl with ‘im is it?” he loudly asked his friends, who studied a fidgeting Harry before deciding. “He's got, nail varnish, and braids, like a fuckin’ girl!”

 

Harry twitched anxiously, his eyes wide in the light of the fading sun. Louis walked them faster, trying his best to ignore it.

 

“Fucking poofs! Holdin’ hands in the middle of the street!” Harry was tense beside him, going small and scared, ears down, tail tucked down between his legs. Louis remembered, abruptly, something Harry had confided; the cat fights were all bluster, all swagger, all about the pageantry of trying to look tough, but Harry had never even gotten really hurt while scuffling before. Louis didn't know a lick about cat body language still, had been putting off looking it up, but it was so, so easy to tell Harry was terrified.

 

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I do it for you, ya nasty cunt,” Louis suddenly spat back, gently curling an arm around Harry and pulling him into his side, steadying him, offering strength. The guy stumbled and pointed an accusatory finger.

 

“You talkn’ t’me, ya bitch!?” the man raged, stumbling towards them. Louis’ jaw clenched and he huffed loudly, tensing up as Harry gratefully plastered himself to his owner, shaking. “Oh lord, lads! Look’it! The little fuck has a bitch! Fucking ‘bout to drop to yer knees, are ya?” Louis was vibrating with anger now, as Harry winced from the harsh words, clearly hurt and bewildered.

 

“Nah, you fucker. You are.” And then Louis decked him in the jaw, and the miserable dick was down for the count. “C’mon, Hazza, baby, we’re almost home,” he cooed, shaking his throbbing hand out and coldly walking away. He'd never been very good at biting his tongue, but he'd stopped brawling for 2 years now. Except, apparently, when small, innocent kitten boys were getting attacked, Louis amended.

 

He practically frogmarched them home, half-carrying the kitten boy as he slunk anxiously, flinching whenever they heard another yell or loud door slam. Louis felt something dark and sad and furious settle in his stomach, at the man, at the world, for its cold, misunderstanding hatred of all things _different._

 

Quietly, Louis let Harry into their flat, a bitterness sitting heavy on his tongue as Harry immediately stripped off all of his clothes and ran back to hide in their bed, tucked under the sheets, like a child afraid of the monsters under his mattress. Louis followed slowly; the only monsters here were mankind.

 

“Hazza?” Louis asked gently, a soft, hiccuping breath coming from beneath his duvet. “Baby?” he murmured, sitting on the bed very carefully. A wavering sniffle came next, and Harry slowly poked his head out, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh baby, c’mere.” Harry wailed softly and buried his face in Louis’ chest, clinging tightly.

 

“Harry has water eyes. Harry's scared, Harry's sad. What's happening?” he asked, looking frightened as he saw the tear stains he was leaving on Louis’ hoodie. “Is Harry leaking? Oh no, Harry's broken,” he sobbed, bursting into fresh tears. Louis cooed sweetly, carding his hand through wild curls and kissing his forehead ever so gently.

 

“They're called tears, Hazza love. They mean you're overwhelmed. Sometimes it's from happiness, or frustration, but it's usually sadness. It's okay to be upset. That man said some very bad words.” Louis’ throat tightened, but he kept his voice steady, gently tracing Harry's spine and nuzzling into his temple. Harry hiccuped weakly.

 

“Harry needs, Harry needs to know… Is it bad for human boys to be pretty?” the kitten asked, sounding lost. “Cats, cats don't… Don't care. Harry never-- didn't know it was bad to be pretty now.” Harry looked defeated, curled up into himself and sniffling again, nudging his cheek against Louis’ shoulder and sighing. Louis’ stomach tightened with the hate he wanted to rage upon the world. He cleared his throat.

 

“You listen to me, kitten.” God, even snot-nosed and crying his eyes out, Harry was beautiful, a beautiful mess he wanted to gently put back together and smooth the wrinkles over. “You are so, so pretty. And nobody can ever, _ever_ make you feel like you aren't, or shouldn't be. You're gorgeous. You're perfect. Don't let _anybody_ ever make you feel like you can't be beautiful, Harry. The nail varnish, the hairstyles, even that makeup I've seen you curiously eyeing-- it's all fine. All of it. You're beautiful, Harry Styles,” he said seriously. “Prettiest doll I've ever seen.”

 

Harry sniffed again, but he looked shy now, instead of sad, coyly nuzzling into Louis and briefly taking up his hand to nose and even lick at his bruised knuckles, a low, but steady, purr building up in his chest. The tears stopped, a faint smile, but a genuine one with a hint of dimple, appeared on Harry's sweet face.

 

“Louis… Makes Harry feel so safe. Safe and loved. Harry will be pretty every day for Louis. Harry isn't scared; Harry has Louis,” the kitten announced softly, and Louis swore butterflies took up a fluttery residence in his tummy as Harry smiled his Louis smile right at him.

 

They were okay. Actually, they were stronger for this. Besides, Louis had been itching to let off some energy somehow; he guessed knocking a fucking homophobe flat on his arse could count as a win.

 

~~~

 

Louis was fairly certain that was to be their first and _last_ fight, but, as per usual, the universe had different plans.

 

He decided, after careful deliberation and planning, he would try to take Harry to work with him. The hybrid loved their home, enjoyed lounging about, watching telly, playing on the iPad-- Harry was surprisingly into Fruit Ninja-- and beginning to experiment with cooking. Louis would rather drop dead than admit it, but Harry's skills in the kitchen were on par and swiftly passing his own. Louis knew how to cook, okay. Somewhat. Some easy stuff. He could do chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of homemade mash, if he was feeling particularly fancy, but otherwise he stuck to burgers, veggies, chips, fried or grilled chicken, pork, noodles, and a various rotation of easy, stick it in the oven and be done with it dishes.

 

But Harry was growing bored of being alone in their one bedroom flat for 8-10 hours 5 days a week, Louis knew. He couldn't blame the boy; now that he knew there was a real world out there, that he could be apart of, why would he want to sit pretty inside all day? So. Louis marked the day, a Wednesday mid shift. It wouldn't be very crowded, both on the date and times, and he figured it was the best way to introduce Harry to his workplace.

 

It went well, to start.

 

“You coming, Hazza bean?” Louis teased, opening the car door, the kitten scrambling out, green about the gills and looking a bit worse for wear. Harry was not a fan of vehicles. Louis could say that with about 1,000% certainty. Harry hiccuped softly and grimaced, sitting down, hard, on the curb, head between his knees. Louis cooed soothingly, reaching down and briefly slipping his fingers into Harry's beanie, rubbing his ear just right to soothe the carsick little mite. The cat man sighed raggedly and then straightened, his color returning as he smiled faintly at Louis.

 

“Thank you. Harry felt icky.” Louis hummed sympathetically and gently withdrew his hand, making Harry briefly pout as he stood up again. His kitten was in nice clothes today, having insisted on it since he was going into where Louis had first met him. His jeans were actually leggings, but Louis had been sworn to secrecy on that, his shirt was a soft grey tee with _lover_ written on the pocket, and he had a comfortable hoodie of Louis’, but he left it in the car, having torn it off halfway through the drive to bury his face into in an effort not to puke everywhere. He looked… _Good_. Louis had to confess, and he was already on slight alert as people walking past took notice of his pretty kitty. Harry was oblivious, as usual, but Louis felt his metaphorical hackles rise a bit.

 

“Let's go, I'm running late,” Louis chuckled, holding the door open for Harry. The kitten ducked in, nose wrinkling adorably at the bitter tang of coffee. He sneezed, once, twice, and then once more, and Louis couldn't stop his soft encouragement, “Go on, get them sneezes out.” Harry sniffed, blinked up at him, and smiled shyly as he tucked himself into Louis’ side. He bit his lip and tried to ignore the way his heart swelled at the look Harry was giving him, nothing but soft adoration.

 

“Go and sit by the counter,” Louis instructed, slipping on his apron and cap before disappearing briefly to clock in. He emerged to find Harry happily seated right next to the entryway behind the counter, staring at Louis and smiling. Louis smiled back automatically, glad he wasn't playing cashier today and could just make drinks and chat with his boy. “Can I get you anything? I bet you'd like a smoothie, maybe a frapuccino? And of course you can have a biscuit or something,” Louis chuckled, watching Harry perk up excitedly. His kitten was the cutest thing, honestly.

 

“Harry will take whatever Louis gives him,” answered his kitten, and Louis chuckled. It was pretty empty, two or three uni students clustered together in the corner and a lone woman typing by the entrance, and Louis was happy as he quickly set about whipping up a honeycomb and vanilla frappé for Harry, selecting a raspberry tart to go with it. “Here you are,” Louis announced, sliding the items over. Harry chirruped and took a clumsy nose at his drink, bewildered by the straw. Louis sighed fondly, yanking off the top and chuckling lowly Harry immediately stuck his face into the whipped cream.

 

The cat man emerged triumphantly though, white dripping off his chin and stuck on his nose. Overcome, Louis grabbed the can and gave Harry cat whiskers to match the nose, eyes crinkling with how big his smile was. Harry giggled and set to work licking it off, purring very faintly.

 

“Is very yummy!” Harry complimented happily, and dug into the drink, licking delicately and seeking out his pastry next. After a bite, Harry's purr edged up louder, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Harry wants to thank Louis. Thank you. Is so delicious,” he moaned, quickly finishing the tart before working at the drink. Louis turned away to fill an order, humming to himself, just as his boss-- and the _fucking owner of Grinder--_ walked out from his office.

 

Louis knew the look on Nick’s face instantly. He'd seen it many times for the pretty-- although personally, uninteresting-- boys who filed through the shop. It was confirmed as Nick smiled, sly and confident, heading over towards Harry.

 

“And who, pray tell, do we have here? Hello, Louis’ tall, gorgeous, lanky friend,” Nick introduced, sidling up beside Harry and winking. Harry blinked up at him, and Nick offered a hand, smiling coquettishly. Louis’ jealousy was out in full-force, snapping like an angry beast with dark claws in his tummy, but he wouldn't interrupt, as Harry wasn't his yet. The kitten stared at Nick for a moment, brows furrowed-- and then he bit Nick, on the hand, hard enough there was an actual tearing sound and blood that immediately began dripping onto the floor. “What the _fuck?!”_ Nick shrieked, pulling away and cradling his injury.

 

“Oh shit,” Louis sighed. Harry snarled, crouching down slightly on his stool. His tail thrashed hard enough it forced itself free from the prison of his jeggings, and the kitten tore off the beanie, ears pinned and eyes dark. A low, rumbling hiss started up in Harry's chest, deep and sounding angrier than a nest of hornets. Quietly, he snapped his teeth and snarled, puffing up his tail, arching his back, and edging towards the startled Nick. The customers were staring, and Louis actually felt slightly intimidated. Harry had never made a noise quite like that before.

 

“You,” Harry said darkly, eyes narrowed as they pinned Nick down like a cat holding a mouse. “You are the one who _bit_ Louis. Who marked him. Made him smell gross. Harry knows you. Harry doesn't like you. Louis is _mine._ Harry is _his.”_ And then he pounced with a yowl like a fucking banshee, Nick visibly recoiling in horror at the hellish creature that was suddenly Harry Styles. Louis immediately hopped the counter to grab Harry up by the scruff. The kitten went limp and lax, dropping to his knees and pressing himself to Louis’ side. Swallowing, Loui _s_ played with the baby curls on the nape of Harry's neck.

 

“So.” Louis cleared his throat. “I think, fuck, we’re going to go, Liam said he'd cover my shift if I had to dash. I am so, so, _so_ sorry. Please don't fire me?” Nick stared at him, blinking owlishly, then waved his uninjured hand towards the door with a shrug.

 

“I've had worse rejections,” Nick replied mildly. “Just-- maybe warn a guy next time? Now go, get home, Jesus Christ. Maybe make it clear next time you're an item before Wonder Cat loses his shit on some poor old lady who tries to pinch your bum. Food for thought.”

 

Louis swallowed, nodding gratefully and keeping a very tight hold on Harry's scruff as he guided the lax kitten back out to the car and into the passenger’s seat. He sighed raggedly as he got in, starting up the car and taking off. The ride back was silent, Harry curled up and hiding, clearly meek after being so thoroughly corrected. Louis wasn't even sure what to say. Clearly, so clearly, Harry had been screaming something with his body language about their status, had thought they were already in a relationship. Louis felt a little bit like he had whiplash. It was okay, though. They would talk it out, once they were home.

 

~~~

 

“So,” Louis started blithely, as they were sat on the sofa later, hands clasped between his knees. They'd both changed, had twenty minutes to decompress and settle. Harry was nude, curled up with his cheek pressed to Louis’ thigh, staring up at him with the faintest wrinkle of worry between his brows. Louis’ hands itched to smooth it. “What… What was that about? We are not on the same page here, exactly. I would very much like to be.”

 

Harry cleared his throat, suddenly looking shy. “Harry-- Harry's confused too. Thought we were mated, already. From first day. Never objected to marking, or biting. Never said no. Let Harry scent you against others and protect our claim.” He flattened his ears. “Louis… Louis didn't realize? Thought, uhm. Thought Louis knew, and liked.” He blushed bright pink and squirmed, looking just a bit devastated from the news that Louis hadn't.

 

“You're right, honey. I didn't realize. I don't, I don't speak cat, like you,” Louis admitted mildly, checking his nails anxiously. “I had no idea until about an hour ago, actually. Just thought you were being affectionate,” he confessed. Harry looked like he'd just told him that tuna was no longer sold at the market. “But,” Louis added hastily. “I wouldn't be opposed to being your, ah, mate, was it? Very different connotation than what most people my age think of with that word. Still, yeah. I…” Louis awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I want to… To be your mate, Harry. I love you. I'm in love with you. Didn't realize you were saying it right back at me,” he murmured sheepishly.

 

Suddenly, he had a lapful of sniffly, beaming Harry, who tucked himself neatly down and immediately cuddled the daylights out of his owner. “Harry wants Louis. Harry needs Louis. Louis is mine, mine, _mine._ Harry is Louis’, too.” He nuzzled into Louis’ neck and licked shyly at the column of his throat.

 

“Yeah? You want to be mates?” Louis asked, winding him up a bit playfully now, making Harry squirm excitedly.

 

“Yes! Yes. Harry, Harry loves Louis,” he whimpered. “Yes, of course, always.” Harry cuddled him even tighter, scent-marking him thoroughly as he squished their cheeks together and tapped noses with Louis, eyes half-slitted and so full of adoration that the breath was stolen straight from Louis’ lungs by the weight of it.

 

“Oh baby,” Louis cooed, gently petting him. “Had no idea. I'm so sorry. Should've realized sooner. Never want to make you upset, kitty. Ever. Now, d’you want to try a human practice for mates? It's called kissing. It's very fun.” Harry perked up, eyes curious as he nudged his face into Louis’.

 

“Kissing? Harry wants to try kissing,” Harry confirmed happily, a low purr rumbling up out of his chest as he wiggled in excitement. “Harry always wants to try whatever Louis wants. Louis knows best.” Wow, okay, head rush. It was heady but terrifying to be built up so high in Harry's head.

 

“Okay. So. You pucker your lips, like this.” Louis demonstrated. “Like a fish, kinda. And then you put your mouths together. It's kissing, mates, human mates do it to signify their claim.” This… This was easy, he realized abruptly. They'd already been acting like a couple. He'd had fantasies about their wedding at least twice a day, and here Harry had already assumed they'd been at that step from day one. He felt a little bit like a giant, massive idiot, but mostly just extremely grateful for the fact Harry, by some grace of luck, happened to favor him in return. Playfully, Harry attempted to copy his face, making something closer to a duck face. God. What an absolute cutie. Louis wanted to give Harry the world, but he had a funny feeling all the kitten wanted was him.

 

“Like that? That's kissing?” Harry looked mystified and a bit skeptical, and Louis laughed, his stupid belly one, that Harry could coax out like it was nothing.

 

“No, no. _This_ is kissing,” Louis explained, smirking faintly and pulling Harry more firmly into his lap. He calmly tilted the kitten’s head back and leaned down to seal their mouths together. It was, all technicalities considered, terrible. His lips were chapped, Harry's fangs almost cut him, there was absolutely no pressure between them, and Harry's eyes were wide open, staring at him. Louis pulled back, unable to stifle his laughter.

 

“How… How was it?” Harry asked. Louis smiled. It was absolute truth when he answered.

 

“Best kiss I've ever had, Curly, but I think we could probably do a bit better. This time, eyes closed, trust your gut. No duck lips.” Louis gently kissed him again, and this time he swore there were actual fireworks going off around then, Harry loosening up and relaxing naturally. He sighed happily, gently grabbing Harry's hips and pulling him more deeply into it. Harry responded well, his body thrumming with energy and excitement beneath Louis’ fingertips. He deepened it, running his tongue along the seam of Harry's mouth until he parted it with a mewl, and Louis welcomed himself inside.

 

They snogged for a few minutes, finding a lazy but fervent rhythm between kisses, breathing, weak gasps, and soft whines. Louis pulled back once Harry was basically boneless, looking melted and hazy and ravished. His eyes traced swollen, red lips and flushed cheeks, smirking at tousled and messy curls. Harry showed no signs of wanting to put himself back together either. Louis sighed raggedly, a little more than half hard in his jeans, and he saw a matching erection as his eyes skittered lower. He cleared his throat.

 

“Is that a feather toy in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Louis blurted out. Harry blinked at him.

 

“Harry's not wearing pants, and that's my penis,” replied the kitten earnestly, making Louis almost drop him.

 

“I know for a fact you haven't figured your body out yet,” Louis answered, blatantly ignoring Harry's cock even though it was bumping into his belly. “So… Go do so.” Harry nodded shyly and climbed off, stretching out briefly with his back to the floor-- and bending himself in half so he could lick at his own cock, bobbing in front of his face, curiously. Louis just about swallowed his tongue. “In _private!_ Private time, Harry! Private! Jesus Christ,” he muttered emphatically. Harry scrambled away, blushing. “We can go over stuff later. I want you to figure out what you like, okay? No pressure.”

 

There was a faint mewl of assent from behind the couch. No pressure indeed, Louis grumbled to himself, a very unhappy throb behind his jeans. Awesome.

 

~~~

 

Harry insisted on trying to make dinner for Louis a week or so later. He called him, while Louis was at work.

 

“‘Ello, love,” Louis greeted softly, smiling faintly as he settled his hip against the counter. Liam made a gagging face at him, wrinkling his nose and mouthing ‘disgustingly in love’. Louis flipped him off. “How can I help you, darling?”

 

“Harry's making dinner tonight,” the kitten boy announced. Louis could almost picture the way Harry's chest was no doubt puffed up in pride by this declaration. “Found a special recipe. Romantic. Had good reviews. Easy steps,” he said happily. “Just wanted to tell Louis,” Harry yawned, no doubt sleepy and soft as he cuddled up tightly under the covers on Louis’ side of the bed, because it apparently smelled better.

 

“Okay, sweetheart. Please just remember your safety skills? Pretty please? For me?” Louis half begged, recalling the first time Harry tried to make a homemade smoothie, he'd almost stuck a hand into the blender with the rest of the ingredients. They'd come aways since then, as Harry now drank at least two smoothies daily to get his veggie count for the day on his owner’s insistence, but Louis fretted. Harry was still so ignorant sometimes of how to do human things. It was usually beyond endearing, but anytime Harry could potentially get hurt, Louis was not happy.

 

“Harry doesn't even have to turn on the oven,” he replied gently. “No worries, Louis.” The kitten giggled sweetly into the phone. “Will have it ready when Louis comes home. Harry loves Louis lots,” he murmured almost shyly, and Louis couldn't stop his heart from melting and dripping warmth throughout his body, straight to his toes.

 

“I love you, too, Harry. Be a good boy for me, okay?” Louis hummed back, unable to stop the fondness from creeping into his voice. He just… He loved his little kitten so, so much, and now he could say it freely. Liam made another fake gagging sound, shit eating grin in place, and Louis pinned a dark stare on him, miming cutting his throat.

 

“Always,” Harry replied confidently, which was most certainly _not_ true. He'd come home a few times to Harry having ripped a pillow up for the feathers-- and nearly given himself an asthma attack. They'd discovered that delightful tidbit when Louis first lit up a fag around him and Harry had caught one deep breath of smoke and been a hacking mess. He'd driven him to the closest emergency vet, because they already had a file on Harry from his kitten shots. They'd been flustered, naturally, but Louis was getting panicked as Harry's lips went pale and he started wheezing in the waiting room. They'd used a cat inhaler on him with a human dosage, it'd looked ridiculous but he was just glad Harry was alright. There was now a prescription of it at home and in Louis’ bag, at all times.

 

He remembered the vet, Dr. Thomas, laughingly remark, “I guess it's a good thing you waited to have him neutered, eh?” When Harry had asked him about it, he'd said it was just a thing that people sometimes did to cats to prevent unwanted babies. No need to tell a man you'd considered snipping his balls off.

 

“Okay, love, I've gotta go, there are customers,” Louis hummed, as Harry softly grumbled to himself about how he was always a very well behaved gentleman, thank you. “I love you,” he whispered into the mobile, and he heard Harry's answering purr rumble out of the speaker. “See you tonight.”

 

~~~

 

When Louis came home, he was tired. Unspeakably so. They'd gotten a rush just before he was set to get off his shift, had to stay an hour later and then also clean up. He was exhausted, he smelled like he'd been bathing in coffee grounds, his feet ached, and he'd managed to burn his wrist on a scalding hot kettle. Louis honestly just wanted to shovel food in his mouth and sleep.

 

“Hazza?” he called through a yawn, stretching out and smiling faintly. “Where are you?”

 

“Harry's in the kitchen,” he called softly. “Dinner is ready, Louis,” came a happy purr. Louis toed off his shoes and shoved his work clothing on the floor in a pile for later. He stretched and made his way towards the kitchen.

 

“Did you make breakfast for dinner? It smells sweet--” Louis cut himself off mid sentence as he rounded the corner to choke on his tongue.

 

There was a naked Harry Styles on his dinner table. That was not at all unusual, really, since Harry was a climber and a nudist. Louis was forever sanitizing surfaces he ate and cooked off of. No, the new thing was the fact his body was decorated. He had whipped cream swirls over his nipples with cherries on top. There was an artsy pattern of chocolate syrup down his stomach, and more whipped cream sprayed on his groin and arse crack. He could've sworn he even saw sprinkles.

 

“Harry made dessert first,” Harry purred brightly, eyes soft and happy as he smiled brilliantly. “Eat up.”

 

Louis dimly realized his jaw was on the floor, and he sputtered incomprehensible noises. “Harry, you, we, I-- _fucking hell.”_ He slapped a hand over his face and rubbed briskly, feeling mildly hysterical. “Shit, fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Louis blurted, tearing at his hair and beginning to let utterly absurd giggles free. Harry pouted at him.

 

“The web article was titled _Best Dish to Treat Your Man,”_ Harry whined. “Is this not good? Harry thought the steps were simple… Didn't really have to cook anything. Siri said it had a bunch of good reviews! Did the magic box lie? Harry screwed up the recipe, didn't he?” The poor kitten was drooping, whipped cream melting off of his nipples.

 

“Oh my god,” Louis fervently, wondering what deity had decided to shit on him today. “Harry, you're fine. This isn't-- a real meal. This isn't something I would really eat? I mean, I've pictured this with sushi off of me, maybe, fuck, I'm rambling, ignore me.” He swallowed tightly. “Let's just get you cleaned up and have something simple for dinner, yeah? This isn't a real meal, babes. Sorry.”

 

“Harry wouldn't mind you eating him, as long as Louis’ happy,” the kitten yawned, and Louis was struck silent for a second time this evening. Nonetheless, Harry hopped down while pulling a clearly uncomfortable face, thighs sticking together.

 

“Go clean up,” Louis ordered, beginning to wipe the table. Instead of heading for the shower, Harry plopped down and bent to lick his arse crack clean. “TUB!” Louis shrieked, flapping his flannel at Harry. “In the tub! Water, wash, _bathe_ !” As Harry shrugged, huffing softly and licking whipped cream from his pouty bottom lip, but obediently left the room, Louis muttered another vehement, “Oh my _god.”_

 

Louis gave himself exactly five minutes to briefly fantasize and then struggle to calm down. After pressing a few ice cubes to his poor dick, he was ready. He followed Harry into the shower, knowing Harry struggled with proper liquid amounts. Louis had learned not to let Harry alone to bathe as the cat had used three bath bombs at once, and half a bottle of Louis’ favorite body gel on his first entirely private affair. Harry stood still and allowed Louis to lather up his curls and dole out the proper amount of soap for his body. After rinsing, Louis conditioned his hair, then left Harry to finish his shower solo, changing out of his damp and dirty clothes and into a soft pair of joggers and a loose, scoop neck tank top.

 

“You done, Curly?” Louis yawned, stomach snarling with hunger. Harry emerged from the loo in a cloud of steam, a turban towel on his head and one around his waist. “Dry yourself and hang the towels, I'm gonna go start a proper dinner.”

 

Louis threw together two cheese toasties, spreading tuna on one for Harry, as well as a handful of crisps for each dish. “You want milk or water, H?” he called, cocking his hip and humming. Harry came padding in, ringlets damp and bouncy.

 

“Water,” he requested softly, looking a bit pink-cheeked. Louis chalked it up to the heat of the shower. He set their plates out on the supper table, as well as a beer for him and a glass of water for his kitten. He sat down and dug in, practically starving as he inhaled his toastie and then went to town on the crisps. Harry picked at his own food, barely getting half the toastie down and barely nibbling at his crisps, seemingly not very hungry. “What's wrong, then? Spoil your dinner with dessert?” Louis taunted with a faint smile to show he wasn't serious. Harry shook his head, ears flattening slightly as he sighed and drank his glass of water sadly.

 

Louis frowned and looked a bit closer at Harry. He was pale but had color high in his cheeks. The kitten was trembling slightly as he took another bite of his sandwich before setting it down and shaking his head slightly. Harry swallowed with difficulty, throat audibly clicking, and pushed his plate away, looking a bit green about the gills. His hair was still wet, which was understandable, but that was definitely sweat and not condensation gathering on his boy’s face, making him clammy.

 

“Darling?” Louis asked worriedly, and Harry grunted, standing up and rushing to the sink to retch up what he'd tried to eat several minutes before. He gagged a few times on nothing before it all came up, the splatter making Louis wince. He stood up and quietly came up behind the kitten, trying his curls back gently from his face and rubbing his heaving back soothingly, trying to take some of the hurt away. Harry spent a miserable few minutes bent over the sink, the smell of his sick bitter in the kitchen, cheek rested against the cool metal as he finished up after a few phlegm-heavy spits. Louis rinsed his vomit down the drain, then stoppered the sink up and poured a bit of bleach in with a dilution of cold water.

 

“Let's get you straight to bed, Hazza. You're ill,” Louis murmured, a guiding hand on the small of his back. Harry whimpered, so Louis carefully picked him up, Harry burying his face in his neck as his legs wrapped around his waist. Louis carried him to their room, leaving the last of his dinner cold and untouched on the table. He settled Harry in bed, sliding a pair of very loose briefs on him, with a big, cozy sweater, once the cat man began to shiver furiously. He made him take some medicine, despite the little shit’s protests. “Poor dear,” Louis cooed, gently petting his curls back off of his pale face and kissing his temple gently. “We’ll get you settled.”

 

“Harry… Harry should've listened,” the kitten whined shyly. “Louis told Harry not to play with rodents or dead things,” he said with a grunt, stomach cramping viciously, making him bend double and clutch at himself with a weak, ragged gasp. Louis was unable to help the small frown that twitched onto his face.

 

“What did you do, Hazza?” Louis asked with a gigantic sigh, pulling the covers up to Harry's chin and wrapping him up like a sick burrito. Harry smiled sheepishly, weak and looking wiped out. “Which one were you fucking with, dead stuff or rodents?”

 

“... Both?” Harry whimpered. “Harry found a dead mouse.” Louis was horrified, visibly, at that. “Harry played with it… A little, a lot,” he confessed, whining and squirming.

 

“I fucking kiss that mouth,” Louis groaned, wanting to bleach the entirety of his insides. “Goddamn it, Harry, this is why I told you that rule in the first place, you-- ugh. That's why you're ill, you lunatic. Diseases and germs,” he scolded, crossing his arms over his chest as Harry blinked up at him all shyly. “D'you get it now?”

 

“Harry understands,” the kitten mumbled, nuzzling into the duvet and whimpering needily. “Harry's sorry. Should’ve listened to Louis. He always knows best,” he sighed, stretching out with a pained grunt and blinking up at Louis like he regretted that mice were even a thing. Louis softened in expression and will so quickly he was halfway disgusted with himself. What the fuck?

 

“Well, you're not contagious, then, I bet… So. Maybe you can have a cuddle,” Louis decided, like he had actually seriously considered not climbing into bed with his hybrid and stroking his curls to help him feel better. He hadn’t. Louis slipped off all of his clothes except for a pair of comfortable sleep trousers, settling onto the mattress and gently pulling Harry's trembling body to his, situating the cat man as the little spoon. “Oh, baby,” Louis sighed, as Harry was seized by another cramp. “You poor thing.”

 

“Harry hurts,” Harry murmured, looking almost bewildered as he tensed through the pain of his contracting muscles weakly. “Harry hurts,” he repeated, a bit more desperately, voice gone raw and wobbly around the edges. Louis soothed him gently.

 

“S’gonna hurt for a fair bit, love,” Louis told him kindly, squeezing his hand. “It's truly unfortunate. The medicine should hopefully kick in soon, though. That'll help significantly.” He pulled Harry still closer, tucking the poor kitten into his chest and gently, oh so gently, rubbing at his poor upset tummy. “Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of curls,” Louis sang softly. “Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purr,” he finished, and Harry whined gently through a vicious cramp that Louis actually felt as Harry snapped in half like a released bowstring.

 

“Hurts,” Harry babbled, tucking his face into Louis’ chest. “Hurts, hurts. Harry doesn't like,” he whimpered, rubbing at his eyes as tears started to fill them. “Louis,” he gasped, a bit brokenly, and started to retch again. Louis helped him to the loo, held his hair back as Harry coughed up stomach acid and spit, tinged purple from the meds, into the toilet, heaving a few times, dry and miserable. Louis carefully made him rinse his mouth, then brush his teeth. After that, Louis insisted Harry drink at least a glass of water so he wouldn't be hurting his throat the next time he had to puke.

 

“Oh honey,” Louis sighed, picking up the limp kitty boy and settling him in bed once again. Harry clung to his arms, trembling like a leaf. Sighing, Louis tucked himself in bed beside the sick cat boy again. He held Harry the entire night, through several hours of puking and shitting, held his hair back, offered a towel, even helped Harry take a bath to wash off the disgusting smell of sick and illness. When Harry ended up retching right into the tub, Louis was the one who cleaned him up, showered him off, scrubbed him down, bundled him up, and still had time to bleach the damn thing afterwards.

 

He fed him a constant stream of tea, water, and medicine, and when Harry finally kept all 3 down, he let the kitten have a few crackers. Louis fussed over him constantly, took his temperature often, and read to him out of _Harry Potter._ In short, Louis cared for a very ill kitten boy for a few days, calling out of work and not giving a shit. Louis constantly cleaned, bleached, and sanitized. He changed the sheets twice in one hour because Harry got sick on them. He held Harry's hand when the kitten struggled through vicious cramps, and rubbed his boy’s belly whenever he had a spare moment, trying to settle it.

 

He fixed up a homemade chicken noodle soup, spoon fed it to Harry while they snuggled on the couch watching _The Aristocats_ for the 75th time. Louis didn't even realize just how whipped he was until Harry made a weak garble at the soup being too hot, and he began to blow on it before each bite. Louis couldn't even summon the energy to give himself shit for it. Harry needed him, so. Whatever.

 

Niall came by at one point, to bring him his paycheck, and he snapped a picture of them, Harry's drooling face smushed into Louis’ shoulder whilst he gently rubbed the kitten’s stomach, captioning it: _Harry is Louis’ baby!!!!_ before sending it to Liam. Louis wasn't overly concerned. He had his own fair share of blackmail, thank you very much.

 

Finally, by sunrise on day 4, he could tell Harry was starting to feel better. Louis made toast and scrambled eggs for breakfast, and lowered Harry's dosage of medicine to just a quarter cap. His kitten devoured his food eagerly, swallowed his purple liquid without much fuss, and settled himself on the couch with his head in Louis’ lap so his owner would gently play with his curls and lull him back to sleep.

 

“Feeling alright, there, Hazza?” Louis asked softly, curling his fingers in Harry's mop of a mane. The kitten boy blinked up at him drowsily and nodded.

 

“Louis takes such good care of me. Love Louis so much.” Harry swallowed and affectionately rubbed up against his owner, whining and mouthing at his chest with a needy such. “Love Lou. Lovely Lou. Love you.”

 

Louis swallowed tightly and gave him an open-mouthed kiss to the curls. “Good to hear. I love you too, sweetheart. Like. So, so much,” he blurted out embarrassingly. At least Niall hadn't caught _that_ particular gem on camera. Small mercies. Harry spent the entire rest of the day glued to his hip, openly staring in plain as day adoration. Louis knew his fond face was on about 90% of the time, but he couldn't seem to help it. He was in a state of permanent love sickness, how cruel.

 

~~~

 

On the morning of the 5th day, Louis knew he'd have to head into work around noon. He'd called off enough days sick, and Harry was right as rain as the kitten insisted on making them pancakes with a lemon glaze as a thank you to Louis taking such good care of him while he was under the weather.

 

“Harry wants to come to work with Louis again,” the cat boy brought up, a stubborn lilt in his voice as he set his jaw. Louis winced, just slightly, as he recalled exactly how well that had gone. Nick got 3 stitches.

 

“Do you promise to behave?” Louis asked slowly, and Harry nodded shyly.

 

“Harry does. No hissing, biting, or scratching,” he promised solemnly, all wide eyes and soft smile. “Harry will control himself better now. Been practicing!”

 

Louis told him he would think in it for a few minutes, and sent him fetch the mail when it came, and Harry squeaked in excitement as he emerged with several bills-- bleh-- and a small box.

 

“What's this?” the kitten asked curiously, poking at it and wiggling around as Louis plated their pancakes and cubed fruit-- one dish, of course. He poured two mugs of tea and then gestured for Harry to sit for breakfast, and Harry obliged instantly.

 

“A little something I got for us,” Louis chuckled, using his nails to slit the box open. He withdrew 2 tee shirts, one a soft, green color while the other was a pale shade of blue that complimented the jade well. “I think you'll like this,” he hummed. He'd been teaching Harry how to read, slowly, and the kitten was now up to reading menus and street signs “Here, what's this say?” Louis prompted, holding up the green tee shirt.

 

“...” Harry gave him an uneasy look but read it off exactly as the words emblazoned on the chest said: _“I am Louis.”_ Louis set that to the side and showed him the blue top next.

 

“And this one?” Louis hummed.

 

 _“If… If lost, please return to: Louis,”_ Harry read off, realization dawning on his face as he chirped softly and jumped the table to land in Louis’ lap and kiss him. “Harry loves them! Harry-- they're so… Now people will know Harry is Louis’,” he gasped in obvious excitement, shaking a bit and hugging his owner before giving him another kiss with a very shy squeal. Louis gently combed his hair back and kissed his nose, beaming fondly.

 

“Go put yours on, choose your pants and shoes,” Louis ordered, but Harry deferred adorably.

 

“Like when Louis does it,” Harry huffed. “And Harry would like a bun today. Be very pretty,” he giggled, gently nuzzling into his throat and nibbling at him excitedly. Louis smiled and clumsily scooped Harry up on his hip, the kitten clinging to him like a needy koala. He settled Harry on the bed and picked out one of the pairs of jeans he'd bought for him, tears in the knees. He let Harry dress himself and then suited him up with shiny black boots, smiling faintly.

 

“And your peacoat,” Louis finished him off, patiently painting his nails a pretty shade of robin’s egg blue to match his shirt. Harry sat on the floor and purred sleepily as Louis pulled his curls up in a loose bun, kissing his ears affectionately. “You look beautiful, as per usual.” Harry blushed faintly. He'd started to understand compliments and what some of them meant. It was nice, like they were finally beginning to speak some hybridized language to each other, less misunderstandings, and more on the same wavelength. To call it nice would be an understatement of the most tragic kind.

 

“Harry… Harry loves the way you look at him,” the kitten murmured, blushing and squirming weakly. He peered up at Louis from under his lashes, chewing at his bottom lip with his little, affectionately-named serial killer face on. It happened whenever the kitten was thinking hard thoughts about Louis.

 

“Stop chewing your lip,” Louis scolded gently, thumbing over Harry's mouth with a faint scowl. Harry huffed, but obediently released his bottom lip, disappearing into the loo as Louis finished getting dressed and ready for work. He'd gotten special permission from Nick awhile ago to change his boring work shirts out for more casual or fun ones. Sometimes the boss being a massive flirt worked out in his favor. “You ready?” Louis called with a yawn, peering out of the bathroom and searching for his shoes. Harry sat him down at the kitchen table, sliding his Vans on and carefully tying them like Louis had taught him. Louis watched him, eyes wide, breathless with the tender kisses Harry placed on his ankles tattoos.

 

“Harry is ready,” the cat man hummed quietly, blushing and gently rubbing his cheek against Louis’ thigh. “Whenever Louis is.” Louis gently cupped his cheek and then stood up, sighing raggedly.

 

“The things you do to me, H,” he murmured softly, and Harry preened at his feet, kneeling before him. “We really need to be going though. Work, all that boring shit.”

 

~~~

 

And Harry was so sweet. He was on perfect behavior, sipping at his cup of tea, warming his hands on the mug and blinking sleepily, eyes following the whirlwind barista Louis proved to be when the shop was actually busy. He didn't fuss or growl, even when Louis laughed at a customer’s joke, touched a few people whilst handing them their drinks or money. Harry just nibbled at a small biscuit and lapped at his cuppa, half asleep. It was Saturday, and Niall got paid to play two hours of quiet guitar in the morning. Harry hummed along to a few chords, finishing his drink and going over to poke at Niall as he took a break.

 

“Hello,” Harry murmured, settling himself besides the chipper Irishman.

 

“Hey, Haz! We doing alright?” Niall questioned, giving him a quick ear scratch and smirking. The kitten had his tail tucked but ears free, because he'd refused to wear a hat. “I love the shirt. Very accurate,” he noted in obvious amusement, and Harry smiled shyly.

 

“Harry's fine. Harry, uhm? Harry wants a tattoo. Or a few,” he murmured suddenly, eyes darting anxiously towards where Louis had six drinks going at once. “Niall has none, but. Harry doesn't think Louis will listen very well,” he confessed. “He doesn't even seem to get what Harry wants, sometimes. Not Louis’ fault, just… Want a tattoo. He has so many!”

 

Niall swallowed a smile back. “Well then. You'll need money, a design, a clean shop, and a distracted Louis. I've got three of four of those, do you have the design?” Harry was starting to understand why Louis called Niall ‘the chillest cunt I've ever met, to be honest’. He liked it.

 

“Promise you'll help?” Harry asked shyly. “Harry has a design.” He squirmed, pulling his sleeve up slightly to show off a small _Hi_ in Louis’ handwriting on his bicep, in permanent marker. Niall sighed softly and smiled.

 

“That's a good tattoo, H. I'll call in a favor with Zayn. Louis have work tomorrow?” Niall asked, thumbing at his phone with a faint grin. Harry nodded. “Good. I'll steal you away around 1 pm, shouldn't take too terribly long for something so small, okay?” Harry nodded again, feeling breathless with excitement. Niall was probably part leprechaun.

 

~~~

 

It went off without a hitch. Harry was good for the nice, very handsome tattoo artist, did everything he was asked. He was silent the second the tattoo machine hit his skin, pupils widening as he gasped faintly. He felt breathless the entire time, like his lungs couldn't fully expand. His blood thrummed through his veins, and he shifted uncomfortably, blinking owlishly. Harry didn't take a deep, proper breath until Zayn had finished, gently covering it and rattling off a ton of aftercare rules. Harry just stared blankly at his arm. Niall was slightly worried he'd broken him.

 

“You wanna go show Louis?” he asked gently, and Harry nodded with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. Niall escorted Harry back to Grinder, smiling faintly as Harry kept tugging his sleeve up to look at the new ink. “You like that, huh?” Niall teased, Harry blushing and letting out a faint noise of agreement.

 

“Hazza! Where the fuck were you?!” Louis demanded of them, actually hopping the counter. He looked frazzled, like he'd been tugging at his hair, and his eyes were a little wild when they narrowed on Niall’s arm around his waist. Harry preened, fairly obviously, at Louis’ territorial streak making itself known.

 

“Harry… Harry got a tattoo!” he chirped, feeling dizzy with love and desire, stumbling up to his owner, his mate, and offering up his arm for inspection. Louis blinked, uncomprehending, before glancing at his arm-- and freezing.

 

“Oh. Oh my god. That's… That's my writing, innit?” Louis asked, looking almost as wrecked as Harry felt. Harry nodded shyly, ducking his head and squirming.

 

“Does… Does Louis like it?” Harry asked timidly, and Louis pulled him into a crushing hug, kissing him senseless. Harry melted into a kitten puddle. “He does?”

 

“I love it, sweetheart. I can't believe you actually did that,” Louis whispered, voice ragged and raspy. “Babes, you look so out of it. Liked that? Liked being marked as permanently mine? God, fuck. That's on your skin forever. _My_ handwriting. You're mine, Hazza.” Harry felt a little bit like fainting.

 

“Harry is yours, just as much as Louis is Harry’s,” he whispered. Harry considered it a good day, spent the rest of it hanging off of Louis, but Louis was just as bad.

  
Niall threatened to pour the hot water from the kettle on them every time he caught them kissing, nuzzling, hugging, or even just staring at each other, but he couldn’t stop his smile either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shirts were inspired by [THIS](http://elasekar.tumblr.com/post/148780790775/inspired-by-a-manip-from-tommosloueh) god bless you elasekar and tommosloueh like please
> 
> ALSO I KNOW THAT WASN'T HARRY'S 1ST TATTOO BUT in all fairness this fic never ever claimed to be even slightly realistic???? so if you expected that you really came to the wrong neighborhood motherfucker
> 
> EXPECT sex next chapter I SWEAR. And an appearance of jealous Louis, which is a scary attractive thing, whilst Harry being territorial just makes me giggle bc it's cute and ridiculous??? I mean there's gonna be smut but I guess be prepared for more fights because these two... these two. Hopefully Harry's starting to master his kitty self so we can see his polite sweet side okay.
> 
> Kudos and comments feed me :))))


	4. In Which Harry Styles has Been Watching Jack Styles-- If You Know What I Mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn, Harry is a horny bastard.
> 
> Louis might just love it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, still can't believe I wrote this. Enjoy?

Louis was used to Harry being a massive weirdo. He was, honestly. But his kitten was taking this to a whole new level of strange. It had been ratcheted past the top bar of weirdness a few times, and they were only 5 minutes into their outing.

 

“Harry?” Louis asked warily. The kitten poked his head up from behind the trashcan he was trying-- and ultimately failing-- to hide behind.

 

“Yes?” Harry asked faintly. He looked a fucking mess, Louis noted in slight worry. His cheeks were bright pink, his pupils were blown so big he could barely see the green iris around them. His hair was a mess of curls, he kept biting at his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed, and the poor thing was a bit sweaty too.

 

“Are you feeling ill, again? Thought we'd got you all recovered, sweetheart,” Louis sighed, gently tousling his mane and giving him a slightly concerned look. Harry smiled up at him beatifically, eyes slitted and an utterly blissful expression on his face. “Oh. Guess you still feel alright then?”

 

“Harry feels great,” he assured, trembling faintly as he blushed. Harry spotted somebody walking towards them from a side street, and immediately tried to scrunch himself behind Louis, like he wasn't genuinely bigger than his owner. Louis blinked over at him incredulously, shaking his head fondly.

 

“Harry-- oh whatever, I just want food,” Louis sighed. He stretched out and awkwardly walked to the small sandwich shop just a hop-and-a-skip from his flat, Harry waddling along behind him, looking spooked as hell. “Can you-- your hands… Harry, I'm not walking in there with you fucking clutching my arse,” Louis grunted, stopping short as Harry sheepishly peeked up at his owner. Slowly, the giant fucking yeti paws cradling his bum withdrew. “Thank you. Now, can you stand up straight and stop skulking about, please? You're acting like even more of a nut than usual.”

 

Harry whined, a low, wavering sound that squeaked out of him. Louis stared. Harry offered a shy smile his way, humming softly. Louis shook his head and led Harry into the little shop.

 

“Just keep it together, babes. Gimme fifteen minutes, okay? We’ll order some food, bring it home. Just-- relax,” Louis half begged. “Please. Tch. Thank you.” Harry straightened himself half-heartedly, hands weakly tugging at his curls a few times, disheveled and messy. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt-- his _Harry <3 Louis _one --then adjusted his jeans clumsily, staring at Louis like he expected praise. Obediently, Louis gave it. “Good lad. Let's go, yeah? You ready now, sweetheart?” When Harry nodded, Louis nodded back, smiling and taking Harry's hand, leading him inside.

 

It was a nice, quaint joint, a tiny sandwich shop that also served pasta and soup. They specialized in Italian; Louis knew what he wanted before they even set foot in the door. Blessedly, it wasn't insanely crowded. Just a few small groups, really, and the family who ran the restaurant. Harry attempted to hide behind a potted plant until Louis straight up told him to stop acting like the world’s most skittish cat.

 

“What do you want?” Louis asked, cocking his hip out and pointing at the menu display which was lit up above their heads. Harry chattered weakly, obviously nervous, and Louis calmed him with a hand pressed firmly to the small of his back. His kitten curled into his side with an affectionate chirrup, sweet as sugar and turning into putty in his hands. “What a good boy. Tell me what you want though.”

 

“Harry wants whatever Louis gets,” Harry answered shyly, one ear flicking up as he cocked his head and nuzzles into his neck, preening. “Please.” Louis suddenly had an actual armful of Harry, the kitten having slumped into his hold and let himself go weak and floppy, like a ragdoll.

 

“You're such a bloody weirdo,” Louis sighed long-sufferingly, but a smile twitched up onto his face shyly. “It's a damn good thing I love you, Curly. My pretty kitty,” he sighed sweetly, patting at Harry’s cheek gently and giving him a soft kiss on the very edge of his hairline, inhaling his musky scent affectionately.

 

“Louis’ weirdo,” Harry repeated, slurred, and Louis furrowed his brows. His kitten was really acting very strange. Before he could question it, Louis was up to the front of the queue, ordering two subs and a giant pile of chips, as well as a two drinks. Harry smiled at the cashier, having taken a step away from Louis in an effort to look more presentable. It was definitely made less credible by the fact Harry had brilliantly pink cheeks and was chewing on his lip with his serial killer Louis-face aimed his owner’s way. Apparently the checkout girl was just oblivious, though, since she smiled back.

 

“Oh! Look at those ears. You're the cat boy everybody's been talking about, yeah? Absolutely adorable,” the cashier hummed, eyes glittering as she eyed Harry over. Harry, the same lad who had tried to attack a random worker for daring to brush against Louis, smiled back, utterly naïve to the double entendre. Louis bit back his frustrated noise, eyes dark as he firmly wrapped a hand around Harry's waist and pulled him into his chest. Harry preened, very obviously, and rubbed back into him, snuggling up nice and tight while Louis stared the now-embarrassed checkout girl down.

 

“He is. He is, and he's my boyfriend,” Louis said with a bit of a growl to his words. He guessed Harry was rubbing off on him, mannerisms wise. “Our total, please.” Louis paid for their meal and even left a tip in the little hat, grumbling lowly in his throat. Harry stared up at him with wide eyes, looking moonstruck with parted lips and huge pupils. “Thanks, have a nice day,” Louis tsked, shaking his head and pulling Harry even closer, nosing at his curls again. He walked them over to stand by the sidelines, waiting for their order to be filled.

 

Harry suddenly whimpered and latched onto his owner, rubbing up against him needily. Louis snorted and gently pushed him off. “No scent marking in public, H,” he reminded gently. “Haven't even touched anybody but you.” He stroked a hand through Harry's pretty curls, Harry watching him with wide eyes, clearly out of it. Louis shook his head. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you lit up a joint and blazed it by yourself before we went out.” Then he froze, mulling those words over briefly. Well. Fuck.

 

Louis hadn't had weed in the house since the Wanking Incident of 2K16, but he'd found a bit of spilled catnip with the closed container in the kitchen. He hadn't even put two and two together. It was all too easy to forget Harry's cat characteristics when he'd grown used to them, made them an average part of his day. Louis had just swept up the mess and tossed it in the rubbish bin before washing his hands and promptly putting it out of his mind. Now, his brain finally made the connection between the languid, half hazy kitten boy currently sprawling himself out on a table in front of him, bum out, tail up and blinking sluggishly over his shoulder at Louis, and the little bits of green plant matter he'd cleaned up.

 

“Harry,” Louis hissed, cheeks bright red. “Stop that, s’inappropriate. I am _so sorry_ you two,” he told the couple who almost had a Harry Styles unceremoniously shove his face into their dinner. He grabbed Harry's waist and hauled him upright, giving him a gentle smack to the arse and shaking his head. “No idea what you were trying to accomplish with that, but maybe, like, don't do that in public ever again?”

 

“Okay,” Harry agreed slowly, looking frustrated and also like he was planning the best way to crawl inside Louis’ skin. Louis just sighed raggedly and pulled Harry further into a corner, hoping they'd be left alone. No such luck.

 

“Oh my gosh! He's adorable! What a fuckin’ cutie!” squealed a male probably just a year or so younger, staring at Harry with a smirk. He reached out, grabbing one of Harry's ears and giving it a tug, as the kitten boy smiled back glassily, on his best behavior. A small, angry beast with wicked claws uncurled in Louis’ belly.

 

“Don't fucking touch him.” Oh man, Louis was honestly surprised by the amount of venom in his voice. “He's a person, not a bloody amusement park attraction. Don't ever do that again.” Louis pulled Harry behind him slightly, fixing an unimpressed look on the startled teenager. He humphed, clearly a bit offended. Louis smiled back sweetly, “If you even look at him wrong I'll kick your arse, you giant twat. That's a fuckin’ promise.” He hip checked him almost roughly, shoving past as Harry whispered the lyrics to a song he'd enjoyed.

 

“Move, bitch, get out the way,” Harry giggled helplessly, sounding breathless and utterly thrilled by Louis’ rather possessive streak. Goddamn, did he love this boy. Louis swallowed back the territorial words he'd almost let loose, almost a bit ashamed of just how aggressive he'd been. He'd never felt that kind of anger before: loud and roaring, a lion that stretched and sharpened its claws in his stomach. Not for any past relationships, not even Aiden, who he would've sworn up and down in the middle of church he was arse over tits for, once upon a time. It was a bit unsettling, but he couldn't deny how powerful he felt, watching the reject walk out, unhappy and humiliated.

 

“Louis’ so perfect,” Harry slurred, looking about 65 shades past out of it. “Wanna climb you like a tree,” the kitten whispered, then shoved himself onto Louis and started humping against his thigh, hips rabbiting desperately. Louis gasped in shock, carefully pulling Harry away, the cat boy blinking in slow confusion as his hips weakly went on mindlessly a few moments before stopping. “Lou?” Harry croaked, groggy. Louis swallowed thickly and grasped his hand.

 

“‘M gonna use your leash, okay, baby? ‘M gonna tie you to me so you don't wander off while I'm carrying the food and drinks. Please keep it in your pants until we get home, we can have a discussion after dinner and see where it leads, love.” Louis swallowed thickly as Harry nodded, blinking earnestly and trying once more to be on his golden-boy perfect behavior. Louis grabbed their takeaway the very second it was ready, knowing he needed to get Harry home as soon as bloody possible. He didn't need a horny, under-the-influence cat boy in public, not in this lifetime, never again.

 

Harry obediently followed Louis, the occasional tug on his collar making him blink owlishly, cock visibly twitching in his trousers-- fucking hell, Louis’ mouth was watering-- but kept close to his owner nonetheless. Louis wanted to simultaneously kiss the daylights out of him and scold him senseless for getting into the catnip. Instead, he did neither. Louis dumped the food on the counter as soon as they were home, then unclipped Harry's lead, and set him gently onto the sofa. Poor sod.

 

“‘M sure you're really out of it, love, but I do hope y'know that I love you, and I'm going to protect you until the very end of death itself,” Louis murmured, helping Harry strip off, and ignoring the massive erection rubbing into his hip as they snuggled up under two fluffy blankets, whilst shoveling down chips. “Make sure you eat well. I know when I'm high I get the munchies something fierce,” Louis sighed, stroking Harry's cheek as the kitten, in just about pure bliss, rubbed himself eagerly against his owner as he started to scent mark again.

 

“Eat,” Louis scolded gently, tweaking Harry's closest ear and snorting softly. “Eat, you silly thing. I bought you a sandwich, love, and I know for a goddamn fact you're hungry.” Harry whined needily at him, kneading at his chest slightly as he huffed. Louis ripped off a piece of the bread, feeding it to Harry slowly. The kitten licked at the pads of fingers once he’d eaten the food that was offered, and Louis squirmed, cheeks red and heating up. “Focus,” he ordered, and Harry snuffled shyly. He could tell the cat man was still really out of it. His eyes were wet and shiny, pupils blown, and his expression was glazed as all get out.

 

Harry high was a vision, all stumbling words that meandered as slowly as a brook choked with weeds and pond scum. His voice dripped, thick and warm as honey, pouring from his throat as he muttered, “Louis always smells so good.” Louis gently brushed his messy curls off of his forehead, kissing his temple. Harry stared back at him, so intense, like he was searching Louis’ soul. Whatever the kitten saw must have been satisfactory, as Harry latched himself onto Louis like a needy barnacle. “Louis is everything,” Harry mumbled, voice wobbling at the end. “Louis is Harry’s everything,” he whimpered, burrowing his face into his neck, biting down and leaving teeth marks.

 

“Oh,” Louis muttered, gently touching Harry's sides, hands hovering over his lovehandles before settling on his hips. “Hazza, you need to eat,” he coaxed, gently brushing his thumb against Harry's hipbone. The kitten whimpered, nails digging into his chest, licking Louis’ jaw as he smiled up at him with a giggle, all pink lips and shiny eyes. “Harry,” Louis muttered, swallowing so hard his throat clicked. “Please, just eat for me. Then we can cuddle, okay?”

 

Reluctantly, Harry pulled back and started devouring his meal. He meticulously scarfed his sandwich down tongue first, bite by slowly chewed bite, squishing himself into Louis’ side as he shivered and sighed. Once the submarine was gone, he turned his attention to the chips, popping the greasy potatoes in his mouth. Louis helped him finish those as well as eating his own meal, smiling faintly once there were nothing but crumbs left. Harry pushed the trash onto the coffee table and stared up at Louis silently for 30 seconds, so much that Louis awkwardly shuffled his legs and started to speak.

 

“So, Har _ry--”_ he cut off with a yelp, Harry lurching into his arms and connecting their mouths. Louis gasped at the intensity, Harry whining as he eagerly kissed him, needy and shaking apart in his arms. Louis held him close, kept him as steady as he could, holding the shattering pieces together. Harry raggedly sighed, pulling back and sloppily kissing his way down Louis’ throat, nails digging in where his hands clumsily pushed at his owner's shoulders. Somebody had clearly taken some kissing tips to heart. Louis had to confess it was great, with an obviously turned on Harry Styles clambered into his lap and nibbling his neck.

 

“Harry's done research with the small magic box and Siri,” the kitten boy murmured, purring weakly as he started to hump his leaking cock into Louis’ stomach, wetting the denim of his jeans. “Learned so much. Been waiting for Louis to catch on. Doesn't seem to get body language very well. Been begging for it,” Harry murmured slowly, voice trickling like black treacle. Louis gasped softly, fisting Harry's shirt and tugging him back.

 

“Fuck, Harry. Are you sure, darling?” Louis murmured, swallowing tightly as he suppressed the urge to start biting at Harry's bottom lip, pull him into another kiss. Harry nodded so vigorously he looked like a bobblehead, shivering in excitement.

 

“Harry's been asking so hard for it,” Harry whined, squirming on Louis’ lap as he begged for more attention. “Trying so hard, Lou,” he snuffled, twitching his right ear as he blinked beseechingly at Louis. “Been asking for it,” he growled softly, dragging his nails down Louis’ chest. Louis shuddered, grabbing Harry's hips and pulling him closer. He suddenly recalled Harry's behavior the past few days, sprawling out with his bum out on random surfaces, tail up and blinking over his shoulder. Louis almost felt foolish for not realizing what exactly Harry had been asking for. He'd just patted his arse playfully and told him to get up, not understanding the increasingly frustrated growls and lashing tail that Harry had. Now he got it. Now, he figured it out.

 

“Harry wants to get pounded,” the kitten murmured, a faint smile on his face, curling wide across his face like the Cheshire Cat’s. “Harry wants Louis’ cock, please. Been watching the mating on the magic boxes, been craving it, wanting it so badly. This is what Louis needed? Words? Yes?” Harry sighed raggedly, his lips red and swollen from their impassioned kisses. Louis thought he might faint due all the blood that rushed south.

 

“I--” Louis choked out, hands tightening their grip until his knuckles went white on Harry's hips. “God, fuck, _Harry_ Jesus Christ!” He pulled Harry flat to him, slotting their hips together before he molded their torsos next. “You're so bloody beautiful, God, you already look wrecked,” he growled. “You've been watching porn, then? Understand your body a bit better, do you?” Louis goaded, hardly able to believe the filthy words pouring from Harry’s mouth. The boy whimpered, hips stuttering up into Louis’ stomach, eyes fluttering shut as he squirmed and cried out. “Shhhh,” Louis hushed softly, petting his curls back and kissing him slowly. “So this is what you really, really want then? You swear it?” Louis would never fucking force Harry to do anything. It would be disgusting of him to, and consent was something he wanted. Then again, Harry was high, so Louis was getting very confused now.

 

“Harry wants you. Wants Louis to fuck me,” Harry murmured, giving him his best sultry expression. Louis groaned, gently pushing Harry off of him.

 

“Babes,” he half begged. “Babes, please. I can't. You know I can't,” Louis growled. “You're intoxicated. This might not even be you speaking. You can't give proper consent,” he told him firmly but gently. Harry started full on whining when he was set down on the sofa, alone, Louis withdrawing briefly to go throw out their garbage. “It's improper, darling, and I would feel gross for doing it,” he attempted to explain, as he heard seemingly angry and upset growls coming from the living room, Harry seemingly working himself up into a proper strop. Poor boy. Louis stopped dead as he returned, mouth gaping open.

 

Harry had found his lion stuffed animal. It was big, fluffy, cartoonized plushie, fun to hug, and he'd seen Harry snuggle up with it for a nap on several occasions. He was certainly not cuddling it now. Harry had it pinned to the sofa, his jeans down part way, like he'd been too frustrated to tug them down fully. He was rabbiting his hips between its legs, furiously rutting his cock into the soft fur, the pink head peeking out from his foreskin, panting as he dug his little fangs into its neck and whined, blurting precum against its cute tummy. Louis could do nothing but stare.

 

“Harry,” Louis croaked, startled. The kitten whimpered, tugging the plush into a more accommodating position, hips working mindlessly at the air for a few moments, before he settled himself on top of the lion once more. Harry burrowed into the toy’s neck, biting again, digging his nails into its mane as he panted, hot and open, staring at Louis with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. His dick dribbled more precum, smearing it sticky wet in the faux fur, and he grunted as he angled his hips just right for the optimum amount of friction. Louis was honest-to-god shocked, his own erection ignored in his trousers, staring Harry down as he furiously fucked against a plush feline.

 

“Louis,” Harry whined, the sound tapering off into an exhale as he arched forwards and moaned, rough and gravelly. Louis sat down, hard, on the other end of the couch, fairly sure he should scrape his jaw up off the floor but possessing no energy to even attempt it. His kitten boy whimpered and mewled, breath coming in hot, little huffs, the little bell on his collar tinkling wildly as he thrusted out of rhythm, hips stuttering a few times before he was coming, mewling Louis’ name, thick, pearly stripes of cum splattering across the lion’s snuggly belly. Harry slumped immediately into the plush’s embrace, a low purr building up in his chest as he rubbed his flushed cheek into the toy’s mane, smiling shyly at Louis with a glassy gaze.

 

“Holy _shit_ Harry,” Louis muttered, the wind taken right out of him, cock literally throbbing beneath the prison-like-restraint of his jeans. “Oh my god,” he muttered emphatically. “ _Oh my god,”_ he repeated incredulously. “D'you feel better then? Jesus Christ.” Harry nodded sleepily, looking completely and totally on a different plane after his orgasm. “Oh darling,” Louis sighed, slowly, stiffly standing and walking over. He carefully peeled Harry's jeans off and then got his shirt next, tugging off his boots clumsily and carrying the entirely limp kitten to their bedroom.

 

“Louis,” Harry sighed, making grabby hands at his owner as soon as he was set down on their mattress, whining imploringly. Louis groaned, dancing back from his grasp and staring down at him crankily.

 

“Excuse me, there, kitty, I do believe I need to go and furiously rub one out thanks to you,” Louis grumbled down at Harry, who let out a sleepy, sheepish giggle snort.

 

“But… Cuddles,” Harry slurred, sounding absolutely wasted, voice like somebody had put a record on slow motion. “Please? Harry wants snuggles from Louis.” He whined and made motions at Louis again, who released a long-suffering sigh before reluctantly sinking down on the bed beside his kitten boy. Grumbling, Louis gingerly shucked off his clothes as Harry clumsily pawed at him, a low whimper starting up in his throat. After Louis had managed to strip down to just his briefs, he shucked the covers up and pulled Harry into bed properly. Within moments, his cat man had plastered himself to Louis’ side, making needy noises.

 

“Little spoon, little spoon,” Harry stressed softly, and Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, tugging him closer so they were comfortably spooning. His neglected cock gave a twitch at the feel of Harry's bum, but he did nothing to ease the tension, just sighed again, exasperated.

 

“Go to sleep,” Louis grumbled, in his best _I know where to hide little kitten boy bodies and if you don’t shut up you're next_ tone. Harry took the hint and hushed, yawning massively and going boneless as he relaxed into the mattress and promptly passed out. Louis followed after an hour of willing his persistent erection down, rolling his eyes at the situation he'd managed to get himself into. Harry never gave him a goddamn break.

 

At least the night was peaceful, a comforting sense of security over both of them while cuddled so intimately together.

 

~~~

 

“Harry wants another tattoo,” announced Harry at brunch the next day. They'd elected to skip the conversation the previous night had brought up until they'd both managed a few hours to come to terms with it. At least… That's what Louis told himself and announced to his boy. From the unimpressed look on Harry's face, the kitten had worked through any issues he'd had-- none-- and completely didn't see a reason to talk in the first place. Cats, man. It was what it was.

 

“D'you now? What of?” he asked in genuine curiosity. Harry beamed at not getting an automatic no.

 

“A tiger,” he hummed shyly, flicking his tail and peering up at Louis from beneath his lashes, smile poking his dimples out in full force. Louis challenged anybody to be able to resist those goddamn face craters.

 

“And why’s that?” Louis chuckled in soft amusement, as Harry's cheeks heated up, seeming to remember his stuffed lion. Louis had to throw it in the wash after rubbing a damp cloth on the cum patch hadn't done much for the sorry, bedraggled thing.

 

“Roar,” Harry answered simply. Louis waited for more explanation, but none came. Alright then.

 

“Alright. Where d'you want it? ‘Ave you got a design picked out?” Louis asked, muffling a yawn into his bite of  fry-up.

 

“Stylized head. Here,” Harry hummed, standing up in the middle of the restaurant to unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging his trousers down to pat his left thigh. Louis briefly contemplated drowning himself in orange juice, then urged Harry to cover himself back up.

 

“Pants. On. _Now,_ thank you very much,” Louis hissed at him, and Harry sheepishly pulled his jeans back up, only half the restaurant staring. “What did I tell you about undressing in public?”

 

“Harry shouldn't,” the cat man sighed, pouting into his fruit bowl before glancing up at Louis and trying to look charmingly apologetic. _Fuck_ Harry, because it worked. Louis melted like a pat of butter on bread fresh out of the toaster.

 

“Just… Hazza, these rules are for _your_ safety too, y'know? They keep you safe. as well as nice and unarrested, which is how I definitely prefer to keep my kitten.” Louis shoved the last bite of his egg in, wincing slightly, as Harry nodded and moodily ate a banana. He'd never known anybody who could look quite so currish and petulant with a fucking piece of fruit halfway down their throat, but Harry managed. Down, boy, he told his poor dick.

 

“Harry knows,” sighed Harry, twitching his right ear in annoyance. Around their hometown, Louis had started letting Harry walk around freely. Especially because people were beginning to recognize the two of them even when his kitten was bundled up in disguise. “Just stupid,” announced the boy matter of factly. “Everybody should be naked. All the time. Think everyone would be happier.”

 

“I dunno. Seeing old, wrinkly men with saggy balls would probably not make me very happy,” Louis snorted back, and Harry flattened his ears and glared, reaching out deliberately to swat Louis on the thigh. Louis finished up a warning text to Josh, an old tattoo artist friend that did stellar work on short notice, that they were coming. Amused more than anything, Louis sniffed and drew back with a contemptuous look aimed Harry's way.

 

“Alright then, you curly-haired cunt,” Louis snorted, as Harry hissed _wanker_ at him. He really only had himself to blame for Harry's extensively growing cussing vocabulary. “Let's pay and go see about your thigh tattoo.” He left a few notes on the table to cover their breakfast and then had a grumpy Harry accept his hand to lead him out of the restaurant. “Stop pouting, you giant baby,” Louis chuckled, and Harry sulked the entire walk there.

 

“Harry's not,” the kitten sniffed. “Harry's not even upset anymore. Just wondering why Louis wouldn't fuck Harry,” he grumbled out of nowhere, and Louis almost ran into a lamp post as he stared at him, gobsmacked. “Know Louis wanted to, could smell it. Could see it. Was Harry not good enough?”

 

Louis pulled them to a jerky stop, the little bell on Harry's collar tinkling, and oh mother of god-- why was that arousing him? Why was his cock thickening up, poking out from his thighs, filling out and looking for some attention? “Harry. Jesus, babes. Y'know that's not. You were under the influence of drugs and definitely not sorted out properly. We do not give consent when we’re drugged, we do before or after, not during. It's coercion or summat, and it's _wrong_. Just like if you were drunk, or asleep. That's a no-no unless we've discussed it beforehand when you were sober and alert and aware. Okay?”

 

“Yes,” Harry sighed, dropping his head and shuffling his pigeon-toed feet. His nostrils flared and he peeked back up at Louis, a smile curling on his mouth. “Harry can smell you,” he murmured, voice gone a touch or two husky. “Harry knows what that scent means now.” Louis froze, mortified with wide eyes. Harry giggled and started twirling and tugging at his curls, batting his lashes and stepping closer to Louis. People on the street were starting to take idle notice, just a glance or so, but notice, of them crowded together on the side of the street.

 

“Anyways,” Louis forced out, a faint flush creeping up the back of his neck. “Your tattoo. Okay? Let's go check it out, see if Josh is free to design you something and maybe get it on today. No promises.” He cleared his throat and grasped Harry's hand firmly, beginning to walk again, thankful his half chub remained just that: _half._ Harry tucked a smile into his bottom lip, biting at it and giggling whenever Louis glanced at him. Little shit.

 

“We’re here,” Louis announced in relief, guiding Harry into the tattoo parlor and immediately settling himself in a waiting room chair. “Maybe I'll get something,” he hummed thoughtfully, glancing down at himself curiously. Harry perked up and settled himself beside Louis, nuzzling in close.

 

“Harry loves yours,” he murmured, looking almost coy, fingers gently tracing the black patterns. “Look very nice. Should always get more,” he murmured, flicking one ear as he curled into Louis’ side with a slightly drowsy huff.

 

“Well thank you,” Louis chuckled. “Maybe, ah. Maybe you'd like to write something? Like yours, but on me?” he offered, feeling inexplicably nervous. Harry's eyes lit up like he'd been offered a fruit basket-- and Harry fucking loved fruit baskets, he'd found out.

 

“Really? Louis would want… Would want Harry's writing on him?” he whimpered, looking fairly overwhelmed by this. Harry's eyes were huge, pinning Louis in place as a faint tremble came from the pale hand grasping his arm. Louis swallowed.

 

“Of course, babes. Of course I would. Love isn't one-sided. Love the fact you're marked as mine, but wouldn't regret ever being marked in return. Can even draw it right now,” he assured, grabbing a Sharpie from behind the front desk and passing it to Harry. “Write whatever you want, okay? Doesn't have to be big. Your _hi_ isn't massive, and I think it'd be cute if it kinda matched?”

 

“Matchie matchie,” Harry purred in reply. “Matchie matchie.” Louis looked away, closing his eyes so as to not spoil the surprise, as he finally felt the tip of the marker over his skin. After a few moments, a sudden bang came from the back room, Josh appearing with Niall hanging off of him like a sloth. The marker skittered around for a few moments. Harry cursed and mumbled, “Oops.”

 

“It's fine, love,” Louis assured softly, pulling away. Harry started chewing at his bottom lip, cheeks warm as he squirmed in his seat, seemingly unsettled. Louis gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Hey dickheads! We want tattoos. If you're available.”

 

“Luckily for you,” Niall snorted. “He just had a big cancellation due to illness.”

 

“Poor sod, lucky us!” Louis chuckled, obviously amused. Harry tucked himself into his side shyly, blinking up at Niall and offering a faint smile.

 

“Just couldn't stay away then?” Niall teased. “Haven't got any myself. From the way these three are going on, I'm wondering if it's like crisps? You can't have just one? I mean, these fuckers are tools who went completely overboard,” and that earned him a glare from Louis, “but whatever.”

 

“Fuck off,” Louis replied eloquently. “Harry wants a tiger head on his thigh, I think kinda traditional style? And I'm getting whatever Harry's written just now on my arm,” he snorted, realizing that sounded ridiculous, but whatever. He supposed they might be able to call it even, really.

 

“Which would be…?” Josh asked. Louis glanced at it curiously, face softening in amused fondness. Harry had attempted a _Hi_ but had accidentally scribbled through it, no doubt when he was startled by the other boys coming in. Beneath it, he'd written _Oops,_ no doubt when he was actually saying the word out loud. Harry, who he'd been practicing vigorously with on reading and now writing, had a tendency to write whatever he was saying. Louis was hopelessly, dramatically in love, and completely endeared by the little four letter word on his arm.

 

“H, it looks great,” Louis told him fondly, reaching out to brush a few curls back off of Harry's nervous face. “I can't wait to have it tattooed. Your handwriting is going to be on me. Forever.” Niall piped up with something that sounded suspiciously like _cover-ups_ and _laser tattoo removal_ , so Louis calmly smacked him on the bum and shoved him away. “Forever,” he repeated firmly to Harry, who'd gone wide-eyed and silent, a faint purr rumbling out of his chest.

 

“And ever and ever,” Niall agreed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking saps.” This time, Harry retaliated, reaching over and calmly shoving Niall over. The Irishman went down with a cackle, good-natured as ever. Fucker.

 

“I'll do you, first, Lou? Niall can help H pick out which basic design he likes best meanwhile. Yours won't take very long.” Josh sat Louis in the chair calmly, methodically sterilizing and preparing his station, before settling down and smirking faintly. “That's quite cute,” he admitted, beginning the _O_ . Louis hummed noncommittally, a faint smile gracing his lips as he easily sat through the second _O_ as well. The tattoo was miniscule compared to some of his pieces, and while the pain was there, it was pretty easily ignored now.

 

Finally, there was _P_ and the _S_ , Josh double and triple checking his work, then showing Louis. He grinned at it, a feeling of contentment oozing from his soul as he called for his boy. “Hazza, come and give it a proper look before it’s covered,” he ordered gently. Harry padded over shyly, ears slightly back, before stopping dead in his tracks to stare, gaze practically burning. “D'you like it then?” Louis asked, before Harry was carefully avoiding his left arm and clambering into his lap for a kiss, purring so enthusiastically the entire chair trembled. Louis muffled his laughter, a very unamused Josh covering the tattoo as Harry stared at it, love struck.

 

“C’mon then, show me your outline?” Louis asked after a moment, knowing Josh was getting a bit impatient. Harry nodded and slowly climbed off of his owner’s lap, Louis then noted the lack of trousers and said a small prayer he'd made Harry wear briefs today. He'd been getting on him after The Incident, where Harry had attempted to strip off his pants once they had gotten wet by a rainstorm, and had absolutely nothing on beneath. Louis was lucky Harry hadn't been arrested for public indecency. Thank god the police officer liked cats.

 

“Louis, look!” Harry chirped, showing off his left thigh proudly. It was a nice design, very Harry, and Louis gave a smile and two thumbs up.

 

“Very nice, Hazza,” he complimented, slowly standing out of the chair and stretching luxuriously. “S’your turn now, little one. Be a good boy,” Louis ordered, pulling up a chair beside the work station so he could hold Harry's hand during. Josh busied himself with resterilization and prep work once more, whilst Harry settled into the chair. Louis smoothed a thumb over his pulse point and smiled at him, causing a loud purr to burst from his boy’s chest, startling Niall who jumped about three feet.

 

“Still not bloody used that,” he muttered darkly, giving Harry a disgruntled look. Harry giggled and ducked his head, batting his lashes and beaming.

 

“Sorry Niall,” Harry rattled off, batting his lashes and swishing his tail. Josh had him stay still in the chair, snapping fresh gloves on and ordering him not to move. Harry was tense, looked tight and stiff, up until the needle touched his skin. He immediately went boneless, flopping out in a gesture of perfect submission. Louis swallowed thickly, watching as Harry stared up at him with half-lidded eyes, his gaze going steadily glassy.

 

“Alright there, love?” Louis asked softly, gently stroking his cheek. Harry arched into his touch needily, a throaty sound tumbling up from his taut stomach. His chest gently heaved, and he sucked his plump bottom lip between his teeth, canines digging in tightly enough Louis worried he'd bleed. “Babes.”

 

“Harry's… Harry's fine,” the kitten rasped out softly, sounding almost like the words were pulled from a deep part of his chest. “Doing good,” he reassured sluggishly. His thoughts trickled slowly, and he stared up at Louis looking utterly on a different plane of existence. It wasn't until he fidgeted just once, body spasming briefly, that Louis’ eyes were drawn downwards and immediately latched onto the prominent bulge poking out of Harry's jeans. Oh. _Oh._ Now he got it.

 

“Harry,” he hummed warmly, bending down to nudge up right towards the shell of his ear. “Harry, love, that gets you off does it? D’you like the pain, sweet boy?” Louis sighed softly and stroked his cheek, a faint smirk curling on his face. “You look so out of it, babes,” he murmured, kissing his temple and petting his cheek. Harry blinked up at him dazedly, his breaths slowing down as he locked gazes with his owner and tried to calm himself. It went well enough, but Louis soon realized that was because his kitten seemed to be slipping away from him.

 

“Mmm,” Harry sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as his tail twitched restlessly, the rest of his body remaining completely motionless. He dug his nails into his very upper thighs, shivering slightly as he stared at Louis and seemed to ground himself that way, cheeks pink and lips bitten red and raw. Louis carefully molded his palm to Harry's shoulder, smile twitching up on his mouth.

 

“You're alright, sweetheart,” he coaxed, gently stroking his collarbone. Harry muffled a whimper, offering his throat as he sank down in the chair, going limp as an overcooked noodle. Louis smirked faintly, shaking his head and hushing the soft whine that escaped his kitten's pouty mouth. “Calm down, babes. You're hardly through the outline, there.”

 

Harry spent the entire rest of the tattoo switching between fidgety and absolutely relaxed, no middle ground. Poor boy. Louis gently stroked his curls, played with his ears, tried to ease the pain and soothe the itch of arousal. Harry looked wrecked by the end, near tears, eyes blank and glossy and almost vacant, several teeth marks on his puffy lips, and clinging to Louis like he was drowning and his owner offered a lifeboat. Louis thanked Josh profusely, walking awkwardly to go pay after Harry's thigh was carefully covered, a cat man plastered to his side and hanging off of him.

 

“Need Louis,” Harry muttered, pawing clumsily at Louis and whining furiously. Niall was even blushing by this point, a flush settled on his cheeks and creeping up the back of his neck where he awkwardly scratched at his hair.

 

“Sorry,” Louis apologized softly, as Harry started tugging him to the door, weak, desperate noises escaping his chest. “I've gotta go,” he laughed breathlessly, waving goodbye to the two bemused men, stepping out the door, and immediately getting one very horny Harry in his arms, whimpering and nipping at his mouth, pleading for attention, for touching. “What a needy, little thing,” Louis murmured, sealing his mouth in a hungry kiss moments after. Harry scrabbled at his back, panting and shaking slightly, practically vibrating out of his skin. Louis pinned him to the brick wall of the shop, growling softly as he tasted blood from Harry's sore lip, where he'd been chewing it.

 

“Louis,” Harry murmured, knees giving out as he collapsed into Louis’ arms, his owner grunting and using his biceps to keep him in place. They kissed again, messy with clacking teeth, Louis gasping open-mouthed and hot when Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, whimpering for more. “Louis, Lou, please,” Harry rasped, his cock so hard. There was a visible wet spot on the front of his jeans, the denim damp from pre-cum, and Louis barely resisted the urge to lick it. “Smell so good,” he mumbled breathlessly, burying his face into Louis’ throat and fucking _biting._ Little shit.

 

“Ouch,” Louis laughed softly, pulling away and carefully settling Harry on his feet. “C’mon, love. Can you walk or do we need a cab?” he asked gently, as Harry slumped against the wall and mewled weakly. He looked ravaged and debauched, clothes a mess, curls tangled and falling over his face, flushed skin and wet lips swollen with kisses. Louis wanted to destroy him. “Cab, I think. You don't look as if you can even walk three steps, love.” Harry mustered an impressive effort, taking one wobbly step before almost collapsing. Louis caught him with a grunt, shaking his head and chuckling softly. Harry was a right mess, but he smiled so prettily as he snuggled into Louis’ arms.

 

“Want Louis to fucking pound me,” Harry whispered in his ear with a shy giggle. Louis swallowed reflexively, tightening his grip on Harry’s hips, hard enough to _hurt._ He gave him a look and waved for a taxi, shaking his head and snorting loudly with dark eyes.

 

“You're so naughty, Hazza,” he murmured, clearing his throat as Harry attempted to scale him, clinging close and nuzzling his cheek as he whimpered lowly. “Hush up, c’mon, you look like you're ready to come in your pants, love,” Louis cooed, nuzzling at his cheek and smirking. Harry whined, reluctantly pulling away as he twitched an ear and rumbled softly. Finally, a cab pulled up, Louis giving their address as he climbed in the backseat, as Harry climbed over him and plastered himself to his front, purring.

 

“You need to chill,” Louis scolded gently, blinking at Harry as he latched onto him and started laving his tongue over his neck eagerly. “My good, good boy, aren't you?” He stroked his cheek and kissed him again, as Harry started rutting against his thigh again. “No,” he scolded. “Patience. Patience, Hazza. You are not going to hump me to orgasm,” Louis rumbled darkly, eyes dark. “Absolutely not. Harry Styles, I have been a good man. A very patient man. Now, I'm going to get you home, and I am going to take you apart piece by bloody piece. D'you understand that?”

 

Harry whimpered, pupils dilating rapidly as he tilted his head back and offered Louis his throat, a ragged pant escaping him. He was already a mess, for fuck’s sake. Louis watched his heaving chest, his hard nipples poking from his shirt, mouth lush and red, eyes so hazy and out of it. Louis’ hands itched to touch, so he did, reaching out and tweaking his pretty nipples, smirking widely as Harry arched up with a near yowl. The vehicle jerked and the driver muttered something furiously about _fucking dying cats, why the hell did I take this stupid job?_

 

Louis kept Harry off of him as best as he could the entire ride home, but it was hard, pun intended as much as humanly possible. Harry was insatiable, to be frank, trying to crawl into his lap, trying to unzip his jeans, trying to paw his cock-- just, absolutely nuts with it. The cabbie was pissed, and Louis made sure to tip well as he ushered Harry out of the taxi quickly. “Good boy, did so good for me, pet,” he murmured, scooping Harry into his arms. Harry clung tightly, and Louis walked him up to the flat clumsily as Harry started to squirm in earnest.

 

“Almost home,” Harry breathed, clutching at Louis’ shoulders and letting off a low, needy whimper. Louis made a soft noise of agreement, opening the door after three unsuccessful tries to get the key through the lock, then practically falling inside with Harry unbalancing him. Immediately, he started stripping, Harry's eager hands clumsily pulling at his clothes as he eyed him like a feast. They stumbled their way to the bedroom, Harry shedding clothes with such excitement he ripped through his shirt by accident. Louis sighed in exasperation, tugging at his vans and getting the rest of his kit off with a low groan.

 

“On the bed, now,” he ordered, and Harry scrambled to obey, sprawling out, naked and flushed. “There's my pretty boy. Been so fucking good for me, haven't you? Been an absolute angel for me today.” Louis carefully crawled out over the mattress, kissing his way up Harry's thighs, smirking widely at just how hard his kitten boy was. His cock was a flushed pink, dripping pre-cum like crazy, dribbling it down his shaft, the head peeking shyly from his foreskin. He swallowed tightly. “Oh Harry. Love, you look so fucking good. Good enough… To eat,” Louis purred, pinning his hips down and placing tiny kitten kisses on the pretty rose tip of his cock, the exact same color of his swollen mouth. He was stunning.

 

Louis was a little bit a lot in love.

 

Harry whined weakly, his hips twitching up into Louis’ face. Louis smirked and carefully licked the head, tonguing the slit and tasting Harry, his essence. He pinned his pelvis down when Harry jerked up, shoving half of his dick down his throat at once. Louis pulled away, sputtering softly.

 

“You lil’ shit, none of that,” he growled, narrowing his eyes and biting at his bottom lip. “Behave yourself, Hazza,” Louis ordered, nuzzling into his thighs, laying soft kisses and love bites. “My sweetheart, being a naughty, little minx. You be a good boy, darling. Good boys get to come,” he chuckled, ghosting his breath over Harry's dick appreciatively. “There you go,” he hummed, eyes sliding shut as he kissed his dick again. “‘M gonna tease you, a little bit. Just a touch. This is your fucking payback. You've been driving me _nuts_ for weeks now. Such a tease.”

 

Harry started mindlessly twitching up, panting hotly as he twitched his tail and whimpered. “Harry wants you. Harry wants you so badly, Lou.” He was panting softly, chest heaving as he writhed against the mattress and whined lowly. Louis started peppering kisses along his tummy, nuzzling into his navel, mouthing at his thighs and leaving big, dark lovebites all over them. Harry tensed up as Louis suddenly took his prick in again, gulping softly, taking him all the way down his throat and swallowing snugly. “L-Louis,” Harry gasped, eyes fluttering shut as he went completely boneless, sprawling on the bed beautifully. Louis suckled needily, drool escaping his clasped lips as he breathed slowly from his nose, nostrils flaring. He pulled back, gasping.

 

“Fuck. Fuck, babes. You're so gorgeous. Did you like that?” Louis murmured, squeezing his thigh gently and smiling. Harry babbled nonsensically, blinking slowly at Louis and licking his lips. “Shit, love. You look fucking edible right now.” Louis took in his flushed cheeks and chest, his rosy nipples, all four of them, the little freak, swollen lips like he'd been the one sucking dick-- how lovely-- and his messy curls cascading over his pink face. Louis craved to touch. And finally, _fucking finally…_ He could. Louis grasped his hips firmly, spreading his thighs and growling lowly. He looked Harry in the eye. “Honey?”

 

“... Uh,” was Harry's ever eloquent reply. “Uh?”

 

“I'm gonna eat you out now. Tell me if you don't like it, okay? But I think you will.”

 

“What's ‘eating out’ Lo-- _LOUIS,”_ Harry yelped, arching up as Louis licked a long stripe up his arse crack. Smirking, his owner nosed in close, spread his cheeks and gave a kiss on each one, nibbling at the right a bit, then going in, lapping at his rim and rumbling. “Louis,” Harry mewled, arching up, pressing back into Louis’ beard, tickling at his sensitive bits, scraping against his most tender areas. He started whining, low, drawn-out needy sounds that spilled constantly from his throat, drawn up from the deepest part of his chest.

 

“Does my baby like this?” Louis asked, head popping up from between Harry's thighs which clenched on either side of his head. His hair was messed up now, his own spit smeared around his jaw. Harry stared at him like Louis was the second coming. That stroked his ego quite a bit, no lie, and Louis chuckled as he blew a short breath against Harry's pretty pink hole, making him jump in surprise. “There's a good lad, such a nice, little body. I've been waiting ages to do this. So long. So fucking long.”

 

“C’n have it, Louis. C’n have all of Harry,” his kitten offered up desperately, shaking apart in Louis’ grasp. “Oh fuck,” Harry cried out desperately, as Louis licked in deep and hard now, one of his fingers wetting up as he carefully traced around his rim, humming appreciatively. Louis went back to licking, scraping his teeth against his hole and grinning as Harry started wailing needily. “Hush,” Louis chuckled softly, nipping the soft flesh where his bum met his back, nosing into the dimple there. “You'll have the neighbors thinking I'm skinning a poor kitty cat in here.”

 

“Trying,” Harry gasped. “Harry's trying to quiet, ngh, _Louis,”_ he groaned, eyes sliding shut as he thrashed his tail, thighs tightening convulsively as Louis pressed his mouth flat to his hole and sucked, smirking. “Louis, oh god, Louis, making Harry feel so dirty. So good. Pleasure, feels so-- Louis,” he rambled brokenly, his cock kicking wetly onto his belly, a veritable puddle of pre-cum pooling in his belly button. “Harry's close, Harry's so close,” he chanted, grinding his bum back into Louis’ tongue. Suddenly, a slick finger poked at his rim, nudging inside carefully, and Harry rubbed his cheek fervently into the pillows, biting at the softness in an effort to contain some of the embarrassing noises threatening to spill from his throat.

 

“Don't,” Louis hummed, seemingly working to find something. Harry moaned brokenly when a second finger was added, the stretch burning in the most delicious pleasure pain. He was torn, hips simultaneously wanting to thrust up, chasing imaginary friction, and back into Louis’ fingers and mouth, licking sloppily around his digits and nibbling on his arse cheeks. “Okay, babes, you can-- when I find your spot, you can,” Louis muttered, voice raspy as he curled his fingers just right, insistently searching for-- Harry gasped an inhale when his prostate was grazed. He twitched. Mewled. Harry tensed up, cock jerking, and came all over his belly in thick, pearly stripes, sticky wet and hot and everywhere, half sobbing as Louis carefully kept fingering him. The stimulation was too much, and he started whimpering, Louis’ fingers sliding free with a truly obscene pop. He placed one last delicate kiss on his hole, gently patting his little kitten boy’s thigh.

 

“So.” Louis cleared his throat, a faint smirk in place on his face. Harry stared at him, looking completely and utterly wrecked. Louis felt almost flattered, really. Harry took a deep, ragged breath. Then another. Louis started to slowly jack himself off, sighing softly as he stared at the mess on Harry's tummy. Seconds later, Harry pounced, pinning him flat to the bed and rumbling.

 

“Harry needs to return the favor,” he murmured flirtatiously, one ear perking up as he smirked hugely. “Harry's so thankful. Thank you, Louis. Let Harry show you his true appreciation.” And then Louis was in heaven, because Harry's slightly rough, textured tongue was licking at his aching erection. Hallelujah. He could do nothing but stare, open-mouthed and startled, as Harry kneaded at his thighs and then casually licked the entire length of his cock, purring brightly. Oh god, the vibration, fuck yes. Louis grunted, shaking slightly as he reached down, fisted his hands in Harry's luxurious, beautiful curls.

 

“Your mouth. Your mouth, baby. So fucking sinful,” he moaned, unable to stop the filth, and really not wanting to in the first place, to be perfectly honest. “Your lips, they look like they were made to suck cock, love. Dick-sucking lips, my beautiful kitty cat,” he growled, and Harry whined when Louis accidentally tugged at his hair. Louis was seconds from apologizing, slightly mortified, when Harry moaned, high-pitched and desperate, around his prick. Oh my. Harry's pain kink apparently went to hair pulling. Louis smirked lazily, his eyes lighting up at this newfound knowledge.

 

“Louis,” Harry whimpered. “Pull again. Pull Harry's hair again. Please.” Louis obliged, roughly tugging his curls once more, and Harry happily sucked Louis down, eager if inexperienced. He more than made up for it by his enthusiasm, deepthroating him, because apparently Mr. Harry Styles had no gag reflex. Louis grunted and yanked on his cat man’s mane again, panting thickly as he squirmed and started fucking his hips up. He couldn't help himself, too turned on, but from the blissful look on Harry's face, as well as his rock-hard cock, already ready to go again-- he wasn't the only one enjoying this, not by far.

 

“You look so good with my dick in your mouth. Like you were fucking born for this.” Harry pulled off briefly to pant, shaking furiously, drool dripping from his mouth, saliva and pre-cum strings down his chin. “I want you so bloody bad. You're doing so good for me,” he croaked, licking his lips and pulling Harry back down on his cock by his curls. Fuck yes. Louis started to pump his hips up, the coil of desire tightening in his stomach, hungry and white hot, almost burning. He gasped weakly, pawing clumsily at his curls and grunting needily as he arched up and his breath stuttered. “‘M gonna… Gonna come,” Louis rasped, eyes fluttering shut as he shoved in firmly, Harry's purr vibrating his cock in wet warmth.

 

He pulled back at the last second, Harry whining and trying to chase him down, eyes dark and needy. Louis gave himself two tugs, stripping his cock, thumbing his head where it peeked from his fist-- and then he was gone, toes curling, balls drawing up-- release. He almost yanked a fistful of Harry's hair out, by complete accident. Louis painted Harry's shocked face, got him on the jaw, over the lips, in his hairline, some dripping into his eye. He groaned and arched up, growling and trembling, body going lax after orgasm, staring Harry down with heavy-lidded eyes. His kitten didn't seem very perturbed, licking his lips clean before his eyes lit up, and he started wiping at his face. Harry happily lapped it all up, ears perked as he smiled and tasted it eagerly, clearly remembering his last introduction to Louis’ cum.

 

“You did… So fucking good baby,” Louis murmured sweetly, eyes glittering as he leaned over and gently touched his cheek. “Wanna go take a bath, sweetheart? Wanna go clean up?” he murmured, kissing him gently. Harry looked happy, content, but distant. He'd come, too, a second time, when Louis had pulled his curls so hard he saw stars and fireworks and bright, swirly lights. Louis carefully picked him up, a bunch of loose, floppy limbs and a pile of curls with a Cheshire Cat smile. “You look pretty damn pleased with yourself, there,” he said fondly.

 

“Harry, Harry loves Louis,” he yawned sleepily, eyes soft and sweet. “Harry loves Louis so much.” Louis hummed in sweet agreement, carrying his little kitten into the loo and starting up a bath. “Such a good boy. I'm so proud of you,” Louis sighed, adding a _Lush_ bath bomb that fizzed and turned the water a brilliant pink with silvery sparkles. “Such a good, good boy.” Harry looked so happy to be praised, all wide eyes and soft mouth. “I'm going to kiss you,” Louis laughed, carefully connecting their lips. Harry melted as soon as he placed him in the ready bath. Oh, what a lovely picture that made.

 

Harry was gorgeous, relaxed into the warm water, looking radiant but soft. The liquid was a pretty pink, matched gorgeously with his perky nipples and flushed cheeks, not to mention his rosy mouth. Green eyes peered shyly up at him, and Harry smiled, chewing on his bottom lip and squirming weakly. Louis wanted to stick him into a photo book, press him in between the pages like a flower, keep the imprint forever.

 

“I love you,” Louis murmured quietly, smiling and shaking his head. “I love you, so fucking much. My beautiful boy.” Harry sighed, making grabby hands at him, and Louis chuckled fondly, eyes crinkling, as he climbed into the tub with him. They spooned in the warmth. He washed Harry's hair, scrubbed the drying and gunky cum off of him. Louis took care of his baby, as always. They shared frequent kisses, and Harry kept up a steady, lulling purr the entire time. It was nice. Louis proudly put on his stereo system, keying in a song he thought Harry might like.

 

 _What’s New, Pussycat?_ played quietly. They stayed in the bath until they were pruny and wrinkled, carefully braiding Harry's curls and playfully sprinkling a few rose petals on him, before painting all of his nails a gorgeous coral color. They went to bed smelling like roses, and as Harry lay cuddled back into Louis’ chest, it felt like perfection on earth. Sometimes the little things in life mattered most. God, Louis was turning into a fucking sap. Louis had dreams, of a ring around a finger, of a little church decorated simply, an altar and a promise, of a white picket fence, a family of kittens, maybe a chubby-cheeked child or six. He wanted it, was starting to fucking dream about it. It was insane. Louis never thought he could fall, so hard, so fast.

  
He blamed a little kitten named Harry Styles for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO IN CONTRAST TO THE LAST CHAPTER.........
> 
> This was all smut basically I am so sorry Mr. Lion 
> 
> KUDOS AND COMMENTS FEED ME


	5. In Which Louis and Harry ARE Very Much In Love and Truly Meant for Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis realizes he wants to spend the rest of his life with... his cat.
> 
> It's cool, though. Harry wants it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, you deserve a cookie. Hope you enjoy 

After the fiasco that was a high Harry in public, Louis decided to take them out on a Real Date™. They'd been slowly increasing their time out-- Harry's personal best was two hours at a shopping center-- and Harry's personality besides his cat instincts was starting to shine through beautifully. His boy was polite, sweet and lit up a room with his dimpled smile. His charm was as boundless as his wild curls, and once he started to figure out jokes and banter, he was quite a cheeky chap. Louis was so fucking gone for him, his heart ached.

 

So. He wanted to wine and dine his sweetheart right, fucking sue him for being romantic. Harry deserved flowers, candles, gems, treasures, fancy scarves, high class champagne, those nice-smelling massage oils. Louis couldn't afford all of that on his salary, but a dinner at a really fucking nice restaurant? He could do that, with some planning.

 

First was the clothes. Harry was a naked, free spirit as often as possible, but Louis wanted him to wear something at least a bit nicer to a place like Rosso’s, Jesus. He googled how to tailor somebody, since he didn't want to think about some guy running his hands along Harry's inseam, and was going to buy him really nice trousers, but he realized Harry would likely end up ruining them with his tail. So. Black, tight jeans _without_ rips-- Harry had holes in 90% of his pants now-- would do. Louis did splurge on a really, really nice sheer, black shirt with golden flowers that cost about 1/5th of his week’s paycheck, but. Love, man.

 

He'd also bought a simple, black leather collar, very high quality, buttery soft. He knew his kitten boy would love it, especially since the small tag he'd attached to it had his name, with _Belongs to Louis_ and his owner’s phone number on the back. Harry's collection of them had been growing at an alarming rate, ever since he woke Louis up, wild-eyed, at 3 am to ask Louis if pink matched with all of his clothing. Louis was honest, told him no, and Harry had burst into ridiculous, hysterical tears. They'd purchased a cheap plethora of collars off eBay, Louis rubbing sleep from his eyes, in every collar of the rainbow, so Harry could match his outfits appropriately. Now, Harry never went out without his collar coordinated to the rest of his clothes.

 

It was definitely the shoes that got him though, wallet wise. He bought Harry Dior Hommes’ golden boots for a little over £600. Louis had to use a small chunk of his savings to do so, but. Harry had been sighing over them for 2 weeks. His kitten didn't even _like_ fucking shoes, but he was quickly growing attached to boots, expensive-- and outlandish-- boots. Harry also had his eye on a pair of glittery St. Laurent ones, but Louis could definitely not afford both at once. The gold stole his heart, so that's what he bought.

 

For himself, he almost chose a suit, but that was a little too dressed up. It wasn't worth it. He bought a Topman skinny fit blazer, though, that would work, paired with his tightest black jeans-- always rolled up to the ankle-- nice dress shoes, and a grey button up. That was nice. Louis was pleased, at last, with their fashion choices for the evening.

 

Next, rather important, part of his plan: making sure Harry was fine with it. Actually, Louis realized he probably should've done that bit first. Oops. Definitely probably before calling in 2 year’s worth of favors to arrange a date at Rosso’s within a few days, he should've.

 

“So,” Louis hummed, on the morning of their reservation. “Could you, or rather, would you like to accompany me on a dinner date tonight?” he asked, inexplicably and incredibly nervous, despite the fact Harry had already cat-married him apparently from that first scent marking. There were genuine, actual butterflies beating tumultuous wings in his belly as he waited, breathless with anticipation, Harry's curious face looking at him from over their breakfast tea.

 

“Harry wants to go with Louis everywhere,” he answered slowly with a faint smile, a slightly quizzical look in his eyes. He knew Harry could tell he was anxious; the kitty could smell the bitter tang of worry, hear his thudding heart. Louis was absurdly grateful Harry seemed to realize this was special to him.

 

“That's, that's perfect, fuck. Thank you. I bought you a nice outfit and everything,” Louis sighed raggedly, knuckling his eyes and shaking his head at himself. Louis Tomlinson did not _do_ nerves. He covered it with loud, very loud, bravado and japes. Harry had a way of creeping past all of his walls, though, curling up right in the middle of his heart. It was terrifying, but such a rush, to know somebody held him in such regard, such fondness, to see past his acts, but to the meat of the matter. Harry had always been able to find him out.

 

“Harry's excited,” he hummed, eyes softening as he tilted his head and leaned forwards to brush their cheeks together, before he gave Louis a sweet kiss. Harry's knowledge of humans was ever expanding, and he was getting more and more well versed in body language and tone of voice, as well as matching scents to emotion. Privately, Louis thought Harry looked ridiculous every time he ‘tasted’ the air, like a weird yawn, but he'd learned to muffle his giggles lest Harry give him a glare and pouty lip.

 

“Me too,” Louis confessed, reaching over the table to give Harry's have a squeeze, delicately tracing the fleshy curve between his forefinger and thumb. “I love showing you off. Know you love it too. You're such a little shit about possession. Matchie matchie tattoos, lovebites, putting my clothes on, spraying yourself with my cologne… You're insatiable about it,” Louis chuckled with nothing but adoration, as Harry preened quietly, taking a bite of his tuna toast. Don't ask. Harry's eating habits were still oddball as ever. Louis could never recall going through a gallon of milk in a week before Harry.

 

“Just… Like to be Louis’,” Harry answered almost shyly. “To be claimed. To be marked. To know Harry's taken, belongs to you. Only Louis’. Like knowing Louis is Harry’s too,” he added hastily. “But just-- just love belonging to Louis. Feels good. Feels right. Love it.” Harry snuffled softly, going bashful. “Harry loves being Louis’ baby. Nothing better, nothing feels as good.” And damn, if Louis’ heart didn't melt at that. He smiled, bringing Harry's hand up to his face and placing a gentle kiss on it whilst his kitten blushed and giggled.

 

“I love it, too, baby,” Louis reassured, and Harry launched himself out of his seat to curl up snugly in his owner’s strong arms, feeling so safe, so protected, so loved. Louis nuzzled into his temple, humming softly and striking a warm hand through his hair, gently touching his ears. “You're my sweetheart, hm? Go brush your teeth; you know I won't give tuna kisses,” he giggled breathlessly, as Harry snorted and left with a haughty huff.

 

~~~

 

“Louis!” Harry squeaked, settled on the bed with his nice, new jeans on, hair in damp, strawberry-scented ringlets. They'd had what was supposed to be a quick shower that turned into kissing, touching, and a blowie for Louis that lasted 45 minutes, and now they were slightly behind schedule. He had just been handed the Dior Hommes’ box, head tilting curiously as he opened it, eyes widening in obvious shock and surprise. “The boots! Golden, shiny, pretty boots! Oh, Louis!” Harry jumped up, gingerly setting the box aside, and pounced on Louis to pepper him with kisses, tail wet and flicking wildly as he nuzzled eagerly into his boyfriend.

 

“You be careful with those,” he chuckled. The first pair of shoes, an old pair of Vans he was half certain he’d bought a size too big for himself as they did fit his kitten, he'd given Harry had been ripped and shredded by the cat man in a fit of pique after declaring a ‘war on clothing’. Harry flattened his ears grumpily, eyes darkening, clearly insulted by Louis’ playful insinuation.

 

“Harry _would never,”_ he hissed, a faint smirk on his face as he gently swatted Louis’ arm, grumbling softly. “Harry would never, ever, ever!” Harry turned his attention back to his boots, still looking in awe. Whilst he was distracted, Louis pulled a pair of fuzzy rainbow socks out, pulling them on Harry's feet while admiring his kitten’s black toenails; Harry might've looked polished and posh on the outside, but his boy threw a fit when Louis tried to make him wear ‘boring’ socks. Louis was actually in love with a bloody 5 year old sometimes.

 

“I know, I know,” Louis noted in soft amusement, kissing Harry's ankle bone as the kitten sighed and rolled his eyes. It was Harry's absolute favorite part of being human: expressing sarcasm. “I was just teasing, baby. Put your hands out, I bought you nail polish to match your pretty, new boots, princess,” he hummed, gently pressing his pursed mouth Harry's knuckles before spending 15 minutes delicately painting each nail his boy offered. Afterwards, Louis fixed Harry's shirt for him, and assisted him in getting his boots on as well. Harry gave a twirl once he was all done up, even having been encouraged to put on a little eyeliner and mascara, as well as a slightly sparkly lip balm that tasted of vanilla.

 

Louis took a step back and promptly lost his breath, eyes tracing over Harry in awe. His boy was loveliness brought to life, wrapped up in jeans so tight they looked painted on, snug against the swell of his arse and sinful on the curve of his thighs. He had a belt on-- “Too many times, H. Your bum shouldn't just fall out of your trousers!”-- his shirt left untucked and flowing, not exceedingly tight although Harry had still left half of the shirt unbuttoned, claiming it was too restricting. The golden thread of the flowers glinted through the sheer black, and Louis smiled, heart thudding in his chest, as he saw Harry's nails catch his attention. The boots were the piece de resistance for sure, as Harry’s smile dug into his cheeks, dimples popping, staring down at the golden shine before shyly, so shyly, peering up at Louis through his curtain of brown curls, eyes smoky and soft, lips sparkling and pink and so, so, _so_ kissable.

 

So Louis did. He stepped for, hands catching Harry's waist, and connected their mouths, licking in, needy and wet, biting at his plush bottom lip, shuddering as he felt Harry crumple into him. He tasted like vanilla and mint, teeth freshly brushed, and Louis sighed into his mouth, pulling away after a last, lingering nibble. Harry was flushed and squirmy, dewy-eyed and pink-cheeked as he shuffled his feet and giggled.

 

“You look stunning,” Louis murmured. “Heart of gold and boots to match. Hell, even your nails match, princess. Love you so fucking much,” he hummed, clasping their hands briefly before withdrawing. “I need to get dressed now. Do me a favor? Tidy up the loo, there's clutter all over the sink.” He sent Harry off with a cheeky bum slap, Harry purring and pressing back into his brief grope before disappearing into the restroom. Louis dressed swiftly, the nerves stirring up again, another house party of butterflies erupting in his belly.

 

Harry's reaction when Louis joined him in the bathroom was flattering, to say the least; in the midst of reaching out to put away a box of recently-sorted items, Harry froze and dropped it-- make-up, bottles of nail varnish, and cotton balls going everywhere, Louis breaking out into a soft chuckle as he hip checked Harry and started fixing up a quiff. Harry stared at him, open-mouthed for a moment, blushing a deep pink as he gaped like a fish out of water. Louis felt deeply smug as Harry whined, a broken, needy sound, and then plastered himself to Louis’ back, nipping at his neck.

 

“Louis looks _amazing,”_ Harry huffed indignantly. “Totally unfair! Louis knows what it does to Harry when he looks like the big, daddy alpha cat,” he grumbled, almost pouting as he started scent marking Louis whilst simultaneously nibbling at his neck. Louis muffled a laugh, not very well, Harry tightening his grip around his shaking shoulders. “Not fair at all!”

 

“Sorry, pet,” Louis apologized, clearly amused, petting Harry's hair until the kitten calmed. “Didn't mean to play dirty, just getting dressed here. Don't fret that pretty head, sweetheart,” he coaxed, caressing his cheek and beaming. Harry reluctantly accepted his half-hearted apology, relaxing his stance and huffing.

 

“Obviously trying to kill Harry over here, silly,” Harry snorted, then left to go touch up his lipgloss.

 

~~~

 

Harry was proper put together when the car showed up; Louis had ordered a ride so he could help soothe any of Harry's nausea in the car, since Rosso’s was a slight ways away.

 

“Did you take your Dramamine?” Louis asked, once they were sat in the back of the small limo, Harry immediately laying down and clutching the seat as he nodded. Poor boy still didn't seem to trust medicine very much, clinging to Louis as they lurched away from the curb. “Just relax,” he soothed, and Harry slowly unwound as he lay on the seat, sighing raggedly.

 

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, voice gone slightly hoarse. “Thank you, Louis. Stomach isn't lurching like usual,” he noted in obvious relief, slowly sitting up. Louis had almost started pre-gaming but instead selected a bottle of water at the last moment, taking a big swig before handing it to Harry, who greedily gulped the rest, throat working as he swallowed. “Louis takes such good care of Harry,” he noted in satisfaction, beginning to purr as Louis pressed a cold bottle to the back of Harry's neck in an effort to soothe the kitten even further.

 

“You're my baby doll,” Louis countered. “S’my job to take care of you,” he reminded fondly, leaning down to kiss his cheek and then allowing Harry to rub his face against him. Scent marking was still a favorite activity of Harry's, although sucking Louis off, getting eating out, and getting fingered were now higher up on that list. They hadn't actually proper fucked yet, but Harry was getting impatient with waiting for what Louis insisted was ‘the right moment’. Fuck the right moment, Harry had  hummed, draping himself while looking very available across any surface he could fit himself on-- as well as some he couldn't… Sorry ironing board. The loud clatter of it collapsing to the floor had made him jump 3 feet and go tearing back to try and hide under their bed. Louis was luckily used to kitty shenanigans, thankfully.

 

The rest of the ride was fairly calm, the only worries being when Louis banged his head into the ceiling when Harry groped him-- “No, Harry, _after_ dinner. _Not_ before.”-- and when Harry spotted a dog outside the window, hissed, and tried to rip the seat cushions out to hide underneath. Harry wasn't a fan of dogs, not at all, and his first reaction to seeing a tiny Pomeranian on the street was to leap into Louis’ arms and cry. Pardon the pun, but Louis’ boyfriend was a total pussy.

 

Louis got out first once they arrived, holding the door open for his kitten and helping him out onto the sidewalk. It was a damn good thing he did, since Harry Clumsy Styles almost fell flat on the pavement even _with_ assistance. He held Harry tightly and carefully straightened him out on his feet, smiling faintly at his little kitten boy.

 

“Steady on there, babes,” Louis chuckled, guiding Harry with a possessive hand on the small of his back, just grazing the top of his bum with his pinky. “I thought cats always landed on their feet?” he joked, and Harry gave him the patented _Harry Styles glare_ in reply, snorting and shaking his head.

 

“This cat doesn't,” Harry answered haughtily, puffing his chest up and grumbling lowly as he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a hip with a quiet growl. “Harry is-- not very graceful. Wasn't even very graceful when he was tinier,” he murmured, twitching his ear up and blushing darkly as he started to scuff his boots before freezing, clearly unwilling to purposefully dirty them as he blushed. “Sorry. Would never,” Harry apologized, reaching over and flicking his tail as he laughed softly. Louis reached out, pulled him closer and and nuzzling into his cheek.

 

“Darling,” he hummed, soft now, unbearably, disgustingly fond. “Sweetheart,” Louis rumbled, kissing him lightly whilst Harry melted into his embrace, going so easy for him. “My good boy, aren't you?” he whispered, as Harry preened and reached over, pressed his face into his throat warmly, offering his own submissively. Louis pressed his lips to his pulse point, soothing him gently. “Being such a darling, little kitty. You ready to go to dinner?” he asked, placing a last kiss on his collarbone before pulling away and fixing Harry up a bit, a faint but very genuine grin on his face.

 

“Ready,” Harry confirmed, sorting himself slightly as he calmly stood beside Louis, leaning into his side and smiling as Louis settled an arm around his waist. “Harry's ready, Loubear,” he murmured, eyes bright and sweet as he wiggled his hips. Harry was very, very fond of pet names. It was cool, because Louis had practically started a list of them to call Harry. “Take him to dinner,” Harry invited, eyes sparkling like fucking gems. Louis led him inside with a claiming hand pressed to his hip. They were seated under _Tomlinson 7 pm,_ by a short man in a perfectly-fitted suit jacket, bow tie on. It was tucked away, private, by the big wall that was really just a window to a beautiful garden.

 

“The view is lovely,” Harry murmured, blushing as Louis pulled his chair out for him, smiling crookedly with bright eyes. Louis smiled back, feeling absurdly pleased as Harry started looking over the menu, mouthing the words. Between daily drilling on script and the Harry Potter audiobooks at night, Harry was learning, in leaps and bounds, so thirsty for knowledge that he was a true pleasure to teach. “Can… Can Harry have alcohol?” asked the kitten softly, and Louis nodded. They'd bought him a fake ID with nothing but true information, thanks to Niall, surprisingly, who ‘was mates with a guy, who knew a guy, who knew a girl, whose second cousin was in the business and does some truly spectacular work.’

 

“Sure, of course. Know you're a sucker for cocktails, but I think I'll get a bottle of red for the table,” Louis answered, Harry practically lighting up. Harry loved wine. Harry had surprisingly good, and therefore expensive, taste in wine. Louis had rarely seen Harry look as good as he was, mostly naked, in a giant maroon sweater, curls in a messy bun, curled up on their sofa sipping red and watching a fucking Spanish soap opera. Hated most other alcohol. He gagged on the vodka, wrinkling his nose. He spat out the sip of _Stella Artois_ right onto the floor when Louis first offered him a taste. He liked rum, hated whiskey. Loved liqueur. Harry liked his alcohol to not taste like alcohol, and would suck out of a straw fruity, bright-colored concoctions while playing with the little umbrellas.

 

“Sounds yummy,” Harry purred, as a waitress specifically for drinks and filling their bread basket, whisked over. Louis ordered a bottle, gulping at the price tag before _firmly_ pushing it out of his mind. Harry Styles was damn well worth it. Harry requested a water, a dimple popping up in his cheek as he smiled at her and also, very politely, asked for more butter, because it was shaped like a rose and Harry liked pretty things. “C’n I use the magic box…?” his kitten asked, pointing at the butter pat and pouting.

 

“You want to Instagram it, babes?” Louis asked in resigned amusement. Harry's Instagram was a statement of black and white with splashes of color, all of the fucking _randomest_ shit. Still, Harry had racked up a rather impressive 10,000 followers in less than two weeks. Louis had his suspicions his fan club had pimped his handle out.

 

Or maybe people actually did want to see the weird pictures Harry posted 2 to 3 times a day; the neighbor’s cat standing in their flower boxes, the caption being a simple but eloquent _fuck off nigel_ . Or _fly_ with a feather artistically caught in black and white midway down in a spiral as it fell - Louis had watched as Harry dropped that feather 22 times in order to get a good shot. Or Louis’ personal favorite, the kitty face _=^-^=_ with a selfie of his cat man with drawn-on eyeliner whiskers and a giant smile, Louis’ own hand distinctly recognizable from where it tugged playfully at Harry’s first collar.

 

“Please?” Harry whined. “Please, Lou, look, the butter is so pretty! It's a flower,” he giggled, and Louis passed his phone over, biting his lip to hide the smile threatening to overtake his face. Harry poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, frowning adorably, brow furrowing as he selected a filter, not black and white for once, and snapped a careful photo, opening the app and captioning it with a rose emoji and the words _Can't spell flowery without 3/4 letters from love!_ Louis’ smile broke through, at that, going full-on crinkly smile as he stared at Harry with quiet affection. “Did you like it?” his cat man chirped shyly.

 

“Wonderful,” Louis replied, completely talking about Harry, not his silly Instagram post. “You look stunning,” he replied honestly, taking in Harry's bright eyes and big grin with a breath that almost felt like a punch to the chest. Goddamn. “I am so in love with you,” he whispered softly, eyes warm and sweet as he pulled Harry's hands across the table, pressed a kiss to knuckles, smiled at him. “So totally, completely gone for you,” he whispered, absently rubbing his thumb across Harry's left ring finger. Slowly, Harry blinked back at him. “Anyways-- did you figure out what you'd like for dinner, pet?” Louis asked, suddenly blushing as he realized his subconscious desires had been projected. So he was thinking of marrying Harry-- it was valid.

 

Love wasn't like the films and books. It was not a sudden rush, not a grand epiphany, not a completely predictable-- if nonetheless sweet-- climax. It was slow, gradual, but unstoppable. A wave that looked like nothing more than a ripple in the distance but built up into a grand crest that would not be halted by anything as gravity crashed it into shore. Love was sneaky that way.

 

Love crept in, in the foggy hours between 5-6 am, rolling in sheets warmed by somebody else's body and tucking close, taking a deep breath of another's faint musk and going back to sleep. Love curled up tight in the mugs of tea they sipped on, extended lazy tendrils as the steam rose from their cuppas, whilst exchanging drowsy smiles with sleep-mussed hair and creases in their cheeks from the starchy pillowcases. Love was going to sleep beside someone, wrapped around them like a human blanket, and wondering when the thought of waking up with anybody else for the next seventy years started to sound almost painful.

 

Love was feeling their heart in yours, beating on the same wavelength, no matter the distance between you. Love was patient but consuming, rising slowly up like water again, until you could no longer touch the ground with your feet, but in trade, you could float. Love, Louis knew, had always known, was finding home-- in a person. And he was now truly, madly, deeply, foolishly, and completely certain that Harry Styles was it for him.

 

A cut off sound choked from his throat, and Harry paused in the midst of perusing the menu, blinking up at Louis in obvious concern. “Is Lou alright?” he asked tentatively, as he slowly set the display down in favor of reaching over to touch Louis.

 

“Yes, sorry. Big thoughts,” Louis reassured, and Harry relaxed with a relaxed smile aimed his way, shoulders loosening up almost immediately. Their bottle of wine arrived, and they each suddenly had a glass, the waitress saying their main waiter would be with them shortly to tell them specials and take their orders, if they were ready. Harry set his menu away, giggling and taking a sip of his red, pausing to truly appreciate it.

 

“Delicious. So yummy, Louis,” Harry murmured in awe. Louis had been sure to select a slightly sweeter tang to soothe Harry's sweet tooth. “And Harry wants the swordfish, and would like to try the oysters,” he requested politely, eyes bright. Louis wasn't much surprised; Harry really played into the stereotype of cats liking fish.

 

“Sounds good, I might get pasta myself,” Louis hummed, crinkling his nose and humming, as Harry watched him fondly. Their waiter suddenly arrived and Harry wouldn't have spared him a second glance, except Louis. Louis went tense, practically wincing as the man introduced himself.

 

“Hi there! I'm Aiden, I'll be your s-server today,” stuttered the male, voice going from confident to shocked, staring at Louis. “Louis? Jesus Christ, I've been trying to get ahold of you for ages. Who's this then?” Aiden scoffed, giving Harry a decidedly unfriendly once-over. Harry's nape prickled, his tail fluffing up as his ears flattened. Louis was giving off waves of irritation and misery, clearly beyond uncomfortable as he stared at his clenched hands and tightened his jaw, a tic appearing. His body language screamed suppressed anger and also a bit of sadness.

 

Harry abruptly remembered an Aiden Grimshaw. The cock who had dated Louis, to the point where Louis had started to think of forever, of marriage and children and a nice, little house out of the city. Harry remembered growling at that, at the thought of another man getting to mate what was _his._ The massive wanker who had cheated on Louis in their shared flat, multiple times a week for 3 months. He remembered Louis describing the absolute betrayal he'd felt, walking in on his boyfriend of years _, his almost fiancé,_ getting pounded by somebody in their fucking bed--

 

_“H?” Louis had called from the bedroom, and Harry paused in the middle of cleaning himself to swivel his ears towards the summons. He hopped up and moseyed back to their room, pausing at the doorway curiously to blink at his owner. Louis was sat on the mattress, in a buttery-soft tee shirt that smelled just like him, 1 of Harry's favorites to steal and cuddle whilst Louis was out doing Louis things. “C’mere,” he invited, a faint frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked tired, and a bit sad, and he was scented just like when he came home after a long, bad day at work, even though he'd had no coffee shop shift today._

 

_“Yes?” Harry asked, tentatively creeping over, quiet as he slowly sat beside Louis. Louis sighed, slow and soft, and there was that sadness again. He dragged a hand through his messy hair, soft and unstyled from an earlier shower, then rubbed his eyes, the tilt in his mouth going ever downward. Harry tugged at hem of his sweater, chewing at his bottom lip as he fidgeted on the bed._

 

_“Niall told me you asked about Aiden.” Louis’ voice wobbled on the last word, and Harry tensed slightly, sensing this was a difficult topic for his mate. “He told you he couldn't answer, yeah? I appreciate that. I’d like to explain it, Ni forgets details. He's a bloody awful storyteller, too, that goddamn accent making him sound ridiculous even when he's going for serious,” Louis joked, but it fell flat, Harry clearly anxious and Louis not much in the mood for banter. “Anyways. You've heard me bring ‘im up before, yeah? Especially before your little accident in which you ended up mostly human.”_

 

“ _Yes, Harry has,” the kitten confirmed solemnly, sensing the serious mood and beginning to nervously knead the bedspread, picking at a stray thread methodically. He wasn't entirely sure he was going to like this story very much._

 

_“Well. Aiden was my… Mate, for two years,” Louis began, glancing away, already reeling of discomfort. Harry almost told him to stop, to not think about it, let it just be a mystery. But Harry was a cat, and curiosity would forever get the better of him thanks to it, so he stayed silent as Louis continued. “We lived together. We each had a shit job and the flat was shit, too, but we had each other? And that's all I needed to be happy, and at the time, I thought that's all he needed, too.” Louis paused, rubbing his knuckles briefly before shaking himself. Harry gently prompted him with a gentle hum._

 

 _“So, like. I get this really nice ring,_ _about a month before our two year anniversary, right? I saved up for several months to afford it, all sneaky on the down low as I bought it and had it engraved with his initials. And I'm excited, when it's finally ready. I get roses. I get a giant teddy bear that's as big as me, with a little nose in the shape of a heart and it says some stupid shit: I love you beary much, I think. I get a box of chocolates. I get the nicest bottle of champagne at Waitrose. Basically, I go all out trying to make it cute, and special, real romantic,” Louis sighed, looking more and more unhappy. Harry knew, suddenly, this story was going to end very badly._

 

 _“I tell Nick all about my oh so elaborate plan, and he lets me off early to rush home and surprise Aiden. I have the ring in my back pocket, an arm fuckin’ strangling the bear, the other has the chocolates, the champagne, the bouquet. I barely get in the door, I'm so loaded down with this shit,” Louis snorted darkly. “We were always spontaneous weirdos, so I decide to just burst in there with all the stuff, throw it at him, then propose. I got a foot in the room before freezing, suddenly connecting the clothing strewn around the hall and the creaking bed. Aiden is in the middle of getting fucked by 1 of his so-called_ friends _, 1 he'd insisted he never,_ ever _felt anything for despite them dating previously.” Louis took a ragged, deep breath, and Harry is suddenly angry. He's furious, actually, tail puffing up, eyes darkening, ears flattening._

 

_“That's awful,” Harry growled, lashing his tail a few times, thumping the bed with the force of it. He rumbled, briefly showing off his teeth, and Louis cracked his first actual smile of the entire conversation._

 

 _“It was! I drop everything, shocked, hurt, betrayed. All of that fun stuff. I was 30 seconds,_ 30 bloody seconds _, away from offering to spend the rest of my life with him, and he's midfuck with a lad he’d insisted was he just friends with since we started dating. I trusted Aiden. I tamped down my jealousy when they would hang out. I never said a fuckin’ word. And he cheated on me. Many, many times in a 3 month period. In our flat! Our bed! The place where we cuddled, fucked, argued, cried, kissed, lived. I was destroyed!” Louis scrubbed a hand over his face, gruff. His voice had gone tight, and Harry noticed his eyes were a bit wet. “I gave Aiden everything. He hurt me. He hurt me really bad. I had to throw the ring out. Couldn't very well return an engraved engagement ring, and I sure as fuck couldn't even stand knowing it was in the same kilometer as me.”_

 

_Louis looked up then, and his eyes were dangerously close to leaking. He was crying a little bit, just a few tears, but Harry felt his stomach tighten, the bottom dropping out as he stared in utter dismay. He reached over, heart stuttering, smoothed a hand down Louis’ arm, breath going ragged and upset. “Louis…” He swallowed thickly, throat tightening as he let out a noiseless whine._

 

_“It's fine,” Louis sighed impatiently, flapping a limp-wristed hand with a self-deprecating grin, forced and deliberately flippant. “It really is. At least it's a nice dramatic story. I always loved a good tall tale, y'know? Guess I just figured I'd never actually have to live it,” he mused morbidly, shaking his head in faint disgust. “It's cool. It's good I found out before I popped the question, it really is. So. I'm good. I'm over it. Don't much enjoy talking about it, mind you,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling as he smiled at Harry. “But I really am happy that I can share it with you. You deserved to hear it, I think. Good cautionary tale sort of thing.”_

 

_“Louis,” Harry breathed softly, sounding wrecked, voice soft and tinged with tears. “Louis, God. Louis,” he whimpered, body tense and coiled up like a spring. It suddenly snapped and released, and Harry was pulling Louis into the tightest embrace he'd ever given him, breath ragged and fresh tears soaking into Louis’ shoulder. “Louis… Lou. Deserve so much better. Deserve it all, I swear,” Harry hiccuped, more tears tracking down his face, as he half sobbed into their embrace. He clutched at his own elbow, hugging Louis so hard he'd completely wrapped his arms around him. He sniffled weakly._

 

_“H-- fuck, Hazza,” Louis murmured in shock, gently smoothing a hand down Harry's side, tracing the seam of his sweater gently. “Pet. Look at me,” he coaxed. Harry shook his head, burrowing harder into his shoulder and bursting into new tears. “Honey, it's okay. It's okay,” Louis soothed, confusion being replaced by gentle fondness and so, so, so much love, it felt like he might just burst. “It's fine.”_

 

_“It isn't,” Harry wailed in obstinate reply. “Louis deserves the world. Deserves love, happiness, kindness. A good mate to take care of him and love being take care of. Harry wasn't there. He wasn't there to stop it,” he murmured, utterly miserable and clearly beating himself up over it. “Harry. Wasn't. There. Couldn't protect Louis, couldn't stop it. Couldn't, can't. Fuck.” Harry sniffled, whining as he felt a smile curl on Louis’ face. “Why are you grinning?” Harry growled, a childish pout on his face. Louis pulled away slowly, reaching out a delicate hand to gently smooth his thumb over Harry’s jaw, cradle his cheek and sigh warmly. Harry reached up, gently wrapped his own hand around Louis’ wrist._

 

_“Hazza, love. Not your fault. You weren't even born yet. Can't protect me as a tiny egg, babes. It's fine. I didn't have you yet, no, didn't have my little protector watching over me,” Louis agreed solemnly, leaning forward to kiss his nose and wipe away a stray tear with his thumb. “You're being ridiculous, H. I love it, of course, but you are. Nobody's fault but my own naïvety and that dickhead’s. Understand?” Louis asked firmly but not unkindly. Harry huffed._

 

_“Harry's job is to protect Louis. Make him feel loved. Special. So, so wonderful. And Harry wasn't there, Harry failed, and Aiden hurt him,” Harry sighed, a frown marring his features as he looked at Louis with soft eyes and flattened ears. “Love Louis so much. Just… Want him happy.”_

 

_“I appreciate it,” Louis chuckled softly, kissing Harry again, this time on the mouth. “I do, you ridiculous kitty cat, but it's fine now. It's cool. I have you now, don't I? And you'll never hurt me, will you?”_

 

_“Never ever! Of course not,” Harry answered immediately, shaking his head and almost feeling a touch offended by the challenge. “Louis deserves only good things in this world,” he declared, and Louis muffled a laugh into his shoulder, playfully nipping at his sweater._

 

_“Exactly, sweetheart. So, just maybe, relax a bit, Curly?” Louis half begged, and Harry sighed, nodded, exhausted suddenly._

 

_“Oh alright. But fuck Aiden,” Harry added at last, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Louis winked at him--_

 

So. Yeah. Harry remembered an Aiden Grimshaw. He remembered him enough to recall he'd put him at the top of his shit list, even before Nick. And seriously, fuck the Grimshaws! Harry was officially done with that surname.

 

“Fuck off,” Harry enunciated clearly, shaking himself back to the present, where Louis sat, grimacing, as Aiden flung half-hearted apologies and snarky accusations about himself at his owner. He slipped down, underneath the table, grasping Louis’ thigh and tugging him gently in an effort to get him to come down too. It was protected, meant they could watch their backs for an attack. “Fuck off, Louis has always deserved better,” Harry snarled, beginning to rub his cheek on Louis’ thigh to scent mark him in this difficult time. He could tell Louis was startled, slightly embarrassed, but also proud, body relaxing just the slightest bit as Harry's purr started to rumble against him.

 

“Excuse me?” Aiden asked incredulously, bending down to get in Harry's face aggressively. The kitten boy hissed, sharp and dangerous, and snapped his teeth, canines glinting in the dark beneath the table.

 

“Gooooo awayyyyy!” Harry growled, furious and rather forceful, the sound rasping up from deep in his chest. Aiden, quite smartly, took a step back in shock, mouth agape. “Louis is mine. Louis is Harry’s! _Go. Away_ ,” Harry spat, half crawling up Louis’ lap to give Aiden a baleful glare. Half the restaurant was staring as Aiden stumbled back another few paces, suddenly seeming to notice his sharp nails, ears, and tail. “Fuck off,” Harry repeated himself, another growl building in his chest as Louis clutched him close, cheeks hot but a very sheepish pride scent coming off of him in waves. Harry preened as Aiden retreated, not giving a single shit that half of the restaurant was staring in shock.

 

“And stay away,” Louis added softly, hands firm around Harry's waist. “Let's get the fuck out of here, Hazza,” he sighed, looking drained as he carefully eased Harry off his lap and stood up beside him. He left cash for the wine, grabbing the bottle-- which was still fairly full-- to shove into his blazer pocket, and gulping his glass of red like a giant shot. Louis seized Harry's hand and dragged him past the staring tables, feeling almost giddy. He had been embarrassed, and almost ashamed, at first, but. He got it now. Harry's display had been so genuine. Louis was kind of tired of faux politeness, and the fake as fuck faces people wore around each other to be politically correct all the time. Sometimes you wanted to shout “fuck off” at people. Harry did it.

 

“Did… Is Louis mad?” Harry asked nervously, as they burst through the front entrance, the man who had seated them looking disapproving and very disgruntled. Louis had a feeling they wouldn't exactly be welcomed back with open arms any time soon. Oh well. Louis took a few seconds to think of his answer, wanting to be honest, as Harry waited anxiously.

 

“No. I am, in fact, very much in love with you, though,” Louis hummed confidently, leaning over and connecting their mouths messily, pressing in close and working him over until Harry melted into his touch, clutching his biceps and purring. “God,” he exhaled as he withdrew, Harry briefly chasing his lips before relaxing with a faint pout. “Let's runaway? Okay? Escape from the city for a bit,” Louis invited. His kitten boy nodded instantly, privately thinking he'd follow Louis to the ends of the earth, as long as Louis asked him to.

 

They went like children, excited and bursting out of their skin, racing along empty, damp streets and past small, distrustful huddles of people, laughing and calling each other on. They kept their hands locked, running from their disaster dinner towards the more quiet little streets packed with families. Louis slowed down, tugging Harry to a stop as they reached a small playground. His heart was pounding and he panted breathlessly, blood roaring through his veins-- but he was grinning, staring at Harry and feeling even more in love at the sight of his gorgeous boy lit up by the fuzzy glow of the street lamps.

 

“Here's good,” Louis sighed raggedly, still regaining his breath as he tugged Harry towards the bench where he was quite sure the parents stay to watch their kids play. He plopped down heavily, noticing he'd scuffed up his nice shoes pretty damn well, and not giving a fuck. “Isn't this nice? The flat is decent, of course, but… These homes have proper yards,” he chuckled playfully. “And their own gardens. I bet it's nice.”

 

Harry's thigh pressed to his, warm and solid, the cat man grinning shyly at Louis like he'd hung the moon and stars in the sky-- and fuck if he wouldn't. He'd hang every constellation, known and not yet discovered, just to see Harry smile. He reached out, playfully tugged at Harry's special flyaway curl, the one that was always falling into his face.

 

‘You look so beautiful,’ is what Louis had planned on saying. Instead, his nerves suddenly returned full force and choked him, and he garbled out, “Wanna go down the slide?” Luckily, Harry just giggled and nodded, tail swishing as he took off for the bright red plastic. They clumsily clambered up the ladder, trying to both step at the same time and ending up falling in a tangled heap at the top, laughing uproariously. Louis pushed Harry off and positioned himself, trying to get a good angle-- and then Harry pushed him, he toppled over, and slid down the slide with a surprised shriek, landing clumsily and stumbling a few steps. He whipped around to put his hands on his hips and stare Harry down, who dissolved into a fit of giggles and then zoomed down after him.

 

“Sorry,” Harry cackled, jumping up into Louis’ arms and demanding to be carried over to the swings. “Push Harry! Push Harry, please! Want to fly! Please.” As if Louis could ever deny a plea from those pursed, pink lips. He carried Harry to the swing set, setting him down in one and adjusting his freakish noodle limbs, telling Harry to hold on tight before he gave the kitten a slow push, testing to make sure he was solidly on. He pushed Harry harder the next time, increasing the pace until Harry was soaring up, looking awestruck as he stared up at the night sky and twinkling lights. “Lou,” he breathed, and Louis glanced up, breath catching in his throat as he realized Harry looked at the stars and himself with the same open fascination on his face. Harry reached a hand up on the arc of his next ascent, calling, “I can touch it, Louis! I can fly!” Before his grip slipped on the downswing and he scrambled to hold on.

 

Louis jumped forwards, grabbing the chains of the swing and abruptly pulling his full weight onto it, slowing Harry to a jerky stop just as the kitten tumbled off into a heap, gasping. “Be careful! You could've broken your damn neck,” he scolded, and Harry's ears flattened as he nodded shakily. “It's-- just. Don't hurt yourself, Hazza. I love you too much for that,” he chuckled softly, but Harry was still frowning, cheeks hot. “H? What's up?”

 

“... Harry's, Harry's boots!” Harry wailed abruptly, shaking them. The gold was liberally splattered with mud after Harry's crash landing, and so were his new clothes. “Harry's so, so sorry,” he hiccuped, sounding near tears. “Harry will find a job. Pay for it. Harry's so sorry!” Gently, Louis pulled Harry to his feet.

 

“Love, I couldn't give less of a fuck. I'm just happy you're okay,” Louis snorted, and Harry's eyes widened before he flung himself into a tight hug, shivering.

 

“Harry loves Louis so much,” the cat man breathed, kissing his neck once before pulling away. “Harry wants to climb the castle, please. In his pretty gold booties.”

 

“Sure, just don't go too high,” Louis answered automatically.

 

Naturally, the first thing Harry did was go too high. He was a born climber, thanks to the cat instincts, winding his way easily up the net rope before crawling through the tunnel connecting the main castle to the princess tower. But then Harry climbed up the tower, then out the window, then up onto the roof, until he was a good few meters off the ground, staring down at Louis queasily as he clutched the flag close and looked wan and scared.

 

“You fucking dumbarse,” Louis sighed, but he would be straight out lying if he said it wasn't at least a hint fond. “I told you not to climb too high, Hazza! Didn't I? Didn't I, pet?”

 

“Louis did,” Harry murmured meekly, ears flattened as his tail anxiously twitched, clinging on for dear life as the wind whipped his hair around. “Harry's sorry, again. Harry wants to get down, but he's scared,” he whimpered, blinking at Louis with moon eyes and a rueful smile.

 

“I guess I'll just have to be your knight in shimmering armor, then, princess,” Louis sighed in resignation. He carefully stepped up to the tower, gauging the distance and humming, before firmly planting his feet and taking up a nice wide stance. “Slowly crawl this way. Get right up to the edge, there. Then plant your bum, face me, and leap. I'll catch you,” Louis swore. Harry blinked at him pathetically for a few moments, swallowed, then nodded. He followed his given instructions to the tee, only hesitating once he'd gotten his arse set firmly and was staring down at Louis doubtfully.

 

“Louis is sure about this?” Harry asked anxiously. Louis nodded, projecting confidence and widening his smile. Harry swallowed, throat clicking, tensed, murmured a quick prayer, counted to 3-- then jumped, heart stopping as he fell down, down, _down_ … The bottom of his stomach dropped out, and he felt intensely sick, terrified he'd been led astray. He crashed into Louis, his arms clasping him tightly, wobbling unsteadily before they both went flat to the ground. His owner exhaled heavily at the sudden weight of a cat man collapsing on his chest. “Louis did it! Louis caught Harry!” the kitten whooped, eyes glittering as he stared at Louis in exaltation. “Louis saved Harry! Louis is the best!”

 

“I told you I'd always catch you,” Louis chuckled, more than slightly winded as Harry sprawled his full weight on top of him. “Thank fuck you didn't break the wine. I meant it, baby. That's not something I would,” a quick wheeze, “take lightly. A Louis promise is as good as done. I don't break promises, Hazza.”

 

They panted wildly, both hearts thundering, staring each other down as their warm breath fanned over each other’s faces. And then they were kissing, hands clawing and pawing at each other, squirming around in the dirt, adrenaline high. Harry laughed breathlessly into Louis’ mouth, nipping at his bottom lip with his tiny fangs before sloppily connecting their mouths again, hot and hungry. It was a ferociously beautiful moment that demanded to be rough, to feel, not that either of the pair minded.

 

“You're so beautiful,” Louis blurted out, cheeks warming up as he squirmed and rubbed at Harry's soft sides. “Let's go sit, baby,” he invited, taking his boy’s hand and pulling him to the bench, sitting down and half pulling Harry into his lap, straddling him. “Thirsty?” he asked warmly, a half smirk on his face as his eyes glittered. Louis pulled out the rest of the bottle of wine, winking at Harry. Slowly, Harry accepted the offering, taking a long pull from the bottle, throat working. Louis watched his Adam’s apple bob in interest, leaning forward to attach his mouth to the side of Harry's pretty, pale throat, just above his collar. “You are so, so lovely.”

 

Harry was a vision in the moonlight, his chestnut curls long and flowing down, down, _down_ over his face, big, green eyes staring at him with a hooded gaze, pretty, cherry lips parted wetly as he pulled the bottle back from his mouth. “Harry does?” he asked shyly, squirming as he whined softly. “Harry really does?” he repeated, head cocking curiously as he swayed closer to Louis, eyes locking on his owner’s mouth.

 

“You are a truly stunning creature, Harry Styles,” he murmured, licking his lips and smirking widely as Harry's rapt stare followed the movement. “I mean that with every fuckin’ fiber of my being, love.” Louis slowly pet down Harry's sides, slowly gripping his hips as he tugged his kitten boy closer. “In fact, doll, you're absolutely radiant in this moonshine. Pretty, little dream brought to life, just for me. I love you so much,” he murmured, winding his hands into Harry's hair and tugging him downwards, kissing him warmly, a soft sigh escaping him. Harry melted into his embrace with a gentle purr, fingers digging into his chest as he deepened the kiss.

 

“Mmm, more, more. Please,” Harry gasped fervently, licking at the seam of Louis’ mouth, and Louis welcomed him inside. He clutched at Harry's hips before trailing lower, kneading his tight, perky bum as Harry's tail curled around his right arm eagerly. “More, Louis. Want it all. Want all of Louis, inside, please. Fuck me,” he panted, eyes slitted as he stared Louis down with a hungry rumble deep in his chest.

 

“Yeah?” Louis breathed, shaking very slightly as he nipped at his bottom lip and hummed. “Wanna touch you all over, princess.” He stole the bottle from Harry's hand, gulping down a quick swallow and chuckling. Harry stole a second sip, eyes twinkling. His lips were stained red by the wine they were sharing, slightly swollen from their needy kisses. Louis couldn't help himself from connecting their mouths again, tugging Harry flush against him, snuggling up close. They traded lazy kisses and finished the bottle of red between them as the moon rose higher in the sky.

 

Harry tossed the empty wine bottle away, laughing giddily, the glass breaking apart and shattering with a musical tinkle of destruction. “Louis,” he whimpered, eyes soft and kinda glassy. “Harry's drunk, Harry's tipsy. Don't care, don't care, just want you,” he confessed. “Please. Been so patient, been waiting, been such a good boy,” he whined, nails digging into Louis’ biceps, grinding down slow and dirty and _mean_ against Louis’ lap.

 

“Fucking hell,” Louis cursed, loudly, holding onto Harry for dear life as his neglected cock, hard for half an hour now, twitched in his trousers, spurting a jolt of pre-cum into his pants. “Shit, Harry. You need it, baby? I'm drunk too, but you have to-- ah, fuck-- promise you want this. Know we discussed it, you remember what we talked about?” he asked, shuddering beneath him and growling. Harry nodded, curls bobbing and pupils widening as he inhaled Louis’ scent. He shivered, a full body shudder that tiptoed down his spine on light feet.

 

“Green is good, yellow is slow, red is stop immediately,” he murmured slowly, voice gone deep and raspy with lust. “Never hesitate to tell Louis if something feels wrong, and tell him what feels good, too. Check in often. Never feel obligated. Have fun,” Harry rattled off, nosing into Louis’ neck and taking another whiff of his scent, spicy with desire. “Louis smells… So fuckin’ good,” Harry moaned, rocking down again, shivering as he felt Louis press up against his most intimate parts. “Inside. Inside Harry, please. Fuck me!”

 

“Shhhh, shhh,” Louis groaned, scooping Harry up as the cat man wound his legs and arms around Louis tightly, clutching him close and whining softly. “C’mon, fuck. We can't have sex in the middle of a children’s playground,” he scolded, winded. “Gimme my phone, I'll dial up a cab or an Uber or some shit. You _behave,”_ he reminded sharply, setting Harry down as his boy pouted petulantly and firmly crossed his arms, pouting intensely. “I mean it, or no sex,” Louis threatened, knowing damn well it was an empty one, but Harry didn't need to know that, thank you very much.

 

“Fine, fine,” Harry replied hastily, staring down at his pigeon toes and clasping his hands behind his back, trying to look like the poster child for good boy behavior. “Harry will behave,” he sighed, grumbling gently in his chest and sighing darkly. To be honest, Harry wasn't much impressed with waiting, not when there was a disheveled Louis with a very obvious erection half a meter to his side.

 

Louis swiftly ordered an Uber, chewing on his bottom lip and eyeing Harry suspiciously as his boyfriend crept closer, looking pointedly innocent and therefore the exact opposite of it. “It's two minutes out, darling, and we are twenty minutes from home. There will be absolutely no inappropriate business,” he scolded softly, and Harry nodded, smiling winningly as he pressed to his side and hummed.

 

“Of course,” Harry agreed, far too easily. “Harry will keep his hands to himself!”

 

~~~

 

It was a true test of patience, the ride. It started off very chaste, Louis directing the driver to their address before settling back in his seat, holding Harry's hand and smiling as the sweet boy cuddled into his side. Two minutes in, Harry was getting fidgety, clearly restless, one thigh bouncing rapidly and jostling Louis.

 

“Chill,” Louis reminded under his breath. Their hair were messes, they had swollen mouths and Harry had a little bit of irritation from Louis’ beard on his, their eyes were overbright, and they had a nice pair of matching boners, but in case their driver was very unobservant, Louis was aiming for not looking like they were rushing home to fuck wildly. Harry whined at him, a broken, low noise that ripped from his chest, and Louis stared at him, wordless. His boyfriend whined once more, softly, and then pressed a hand to himself, sharp fangs biting into his bottom lip as he nervously flicked an ear.

 

The entire rest of the ride was Harry working himself up, getting handsy with his own body, and in turn winding Louis up. Louis hurriedly paid their Uber while shoving Harry forcefully from the car, mumbling a hasty, “Thanks, mate.” Harry stared at him, a heap on the curb, looking needy as holy hell. Louis groaned under his breath, closing the door and hauling Harry upright. “Inside, _now,”_ Louis growled, and Harry scrambled to obey.

 

As soon as Louis clumsily got the door of their flat open, he shoved his boyfriend into the wall, lifting him clumsily and wrapping those gorgeous, toned legs around his waist. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he rumbled, mouthing at Harry's throat and sucking a lovebite, Harry's back arching so beautifully as a ragged sound escaped his lush mouth. “‘M gonna destroy you, sweetheart. Gonna have you crying on my cock,” Louis hissed, grinding up against Harry's arse, needy fingers pulling him closer, ever closer.

 

“Please,” Harry gasped, shakily collapsing against the wall as Louis suddenly withdrew. “Please, please, fuck,” he whimpered, ears flattening as he stared at Louis desperately. “Need Louis, inside, inside. Fuck! Fuck me! Now!”

 

Louis shoved him towards the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks, getting his shirt off halfway down the hallway before cursing as he worked at his belt, hands clumsy with need. “Get-- get fucking naked, on the bed,” he ordered, and Harry keened, stripping instantly. Louis finally got his stupid belt off, tossing it aside carelessly before ripping his jeans and briefs down. He stepped out of them, breathing a sigh of relief as he briefly curled a hand around his cock, gave it a few slow yanks, thumbing at the head. “Fuck.” Louis glanced up to see how Harry was faring on the ‘get naked’ front and almost swallowed his tongue.

 

Harry was a fucking wet dream come to life. Almost shy, spread out on the bed, hands and knees and looking edible. His back was arched prettily, bum up high in the air in perfect presentation, a beautiful mess with pale skin and dark eyes. His tail was raised, pretty, pink hole shown off. Louis’ mouth fucking watered, and he stepped up to the bed automatically.

 

“God, Harry,” he whispered, abruptly choked up. “If you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen…” Louis swallowed back on a tight throat, a gentle hand tracing the curve of Harry’s spine, a warm weight settled on the swell of his arse. “You are a fucking vision. I love you. I love you so, so much.” Harry preened, pressing up into his touch, always so attention and affection starved.

 

“Please. Please, Louis. Take what's yours. What's always been yours,” Harry murmured, arching his back even more, impossibly, and wiggling his pert bum. “Take me. Touch me. Fuck me! Make Harry fly,” he whispered, and Louis shuddered, cock throbbing. “As long as you always catch me.” Louis fumbled in the bedside dresser drawer, grasping the lube and pouring out a small handful, which he warmed quickly between his hands, swallowing tightly.

 

“‘M gonna take such good care of you, baby,” Louis promised sweetly, time seeming to slow down to a crawl. All that mattered was Harry. Making this good for him, a perfect first, nothing but love and pleasure. He pressed a soft kiss to the dimples in his back, and Harry whimpered, nearly inaudible. “Make this so good for my baby’s first time. Make you see stars. Gonna come so nice for me.” Louis slowly traced his index finger around his tense rim, eyes soft, watching Harry whine at the tease and press back eagerly for more.

 

“Please. Please, Louis,” Harry begged, pressing his hot cheeks into the pillows at the head of the bed. “Just need it. Need you,” he whimpered brokenly. “Begging here. Please. Fucking please!” Harry whined, clearly getting rather desperate. He relaxed as soon as Louis prodded a thick finger inside, smirking and shaking his head.

 

“You're so fuckin’ tight, baby. And hot. Clinging so good, like you never want me to leave,” Louis hummed, petting his flank and slowly easing his digit in and out, until Harry was whimpering impatiently and thrusting his arse back expectantly. He added a 2nd, purposefully stretching him open now, still slow, teasing Harry. By finger 3, Harry was downright impatient, popping his hips back and clenching greedily around Louis, whining desperately for more, for all of Louis. “Relax, sweetheart,” he coaxed softly.

 

“Please,” Harry sobbed, biting at his pillow and wiggling his bum at Louis, clamping down on his fingers. “Please, Louis. Inside. Fuck me! FUCK ME!” he demanded, arching his back and pawing needily at the sheets. Louis pressed a kiss to Harry's fluttering rim as he cruelly withdrew, making his kitten clench on nothing and whimper, devastated.

 

“Hush. You'll get my cock, now, love. Gonna fill you up so good, yeah? Make you scream my name. Neighbors will never be able to look us in the eye again.” Louis spilled fresh lube into his hand, slicking his dick up slowly as he eyed Harry up, sighing at the sight of his boy ready for him, eager and desperate. He forwent a condom; when they had previously discussed it, Harry confessed he wanted to lick it out of himself afterwards. Louis had been too dumbstruck by arousal to protest very much. “You ready, sweetheart?” Louis suddenly double checked, positioning himself just outside his entrance, briefly sliding his straining cock between his cheeks, head catching at his hole a few times, making Harry _mewl_ and dribble pre-cum onto the bed.

 

“Louis… Go for it. Fuck me,” Harry purred, and Louis finally sank in, slow but steady. Harry's body was like a vise; tight, wet, welcoming heat that sucked him in greedily. They both gasped when he bottomed out, seemingly an age later. Louis paused, straining, tucking his teeth into Harry's shoulder whilst he waited for his boyfriend to adjust. It didn't take long, Harry's tail winding around his right thigh as he throatily begged for Louis to “fucking move, please!” So, Louis moved.

 

Fluently, he thrusted in and out, slow but deep, drilling Harry into the mattress as his kitten kept himself folded in half, ripping at the pillow but arching his gorgeous arse back into every pump of Louis’ hips. Harry whined, long and low, then pleaded for faster, harder.

 

“Like an animal,” Harry whispered, one ear twitching in embarrassment. “Need it. Rough, please. Please, Lou,” he requested, so polite even as he was getting the first dicking of his life. Louis groaned at that, curling his fingers around Harry's waist and pulling him back onto his cock.

 

“Yeah, fuck. Okay,” he hummed, speeding up his thrusts, humping in hard and fast now, balls slapping against Harry's taint, making the kitten boy keen and claw at the sheets wildly. “You feel like fuckin’ heaven on my cock, sweetheart. Gonna come so hard, fill you up so much until it's dripping back out that pretty, little hole of yours, pet,” Louis grunted, and Harry whined at that, guttural and shaky. Louis was pounding him now, the bed creaking beneath their ministrations. “Gonna be a messy baby boy, sweetheart. Fuck, ah, shit,” he cursed, reaching forward to briefly tug at Harry's curls.

 

Their breathing was fast, hot pants as they neared climax. Harry was practically limp beneath him, and Louis grunted in savage pleasure as he thrust in particularly hard, making Harry keen and briefly stiffen. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Louis moaned. “‘M gonna, shit, ‘m gonna c-come!” His hips stuttered, and he sank in for the final time, cock twitching as he spurted deep inside Harry's trembling form. Clumsily, in the midst of riding out the waves of pleasure, he reached around and pawed at Harry's neglected erection, pretty and pink, curving up to graze his tummy. He barely got a hand around him before Harry was mewling, shoving his face into the pillow and gasping open-mouthed as wet, sticky heat dribbled down Louis’ fist.

 

Slowly, gingerly, he withdrew, and Harry collapsed like a puppet with abruptly cut strings. Grimacing, Louis wiped his hand on the sheets, pulling a face. Harry looked completely, totally out of it, blissful and half asleep. Their breathing slowed, ragged and heavy, and Louis groaned, flopping out and starfishing on his side of the mattress.

 

“Fuck,” he chuckled hoarsely, ever eloquent. “That was… Fuck!” Louis languidly turned his head, hearing soft, slick noises, eyes widening and cock giving a feeble twitch as he watched Harry delicately curl into himself and lick Louis’ cum out of his own sore arsehole. His poor dick mustered an impressive effort to get hard again, but he couldn't, not after such a mind-blowing orgasm. “Jesus, Harry,” he mumbled weakly, and Harry paused to smile, dimples popping ridiculously.

 

“What?” Harry asked innocently. Louis snorted and shuffled both of them into a shower, washing Harry's hair for him while his boyfriend soaped up his body. They traded turns under the water, Louis carefully helping Harry clean out his sore bum before promising to rub some nice, soothing cream on it once they were dry. Louis made sure to appreciatively kiss and caress every part of Harry, murmuring words of love and comfort and belonging. Harry loved feeling owned, crazy kitten.

 

“C’n you get my hair?” Louis requested, and Harry nodded, lathering him up and grinning as he gave Louis a soapy Mohawk. “Very nice,” Louis snorted, “but not very _me,_ now is it, H?” Quietly, Harry shook his head and carefully styled it into a quiff instead.

 

“Better?” he asked teasingly, a slow drawl to his voice, which was rough and kinda gravelly after sex. It was a definite turn-on, and Louis stole a kiss or 3 before rinsing his hair and putting the conditioner in. He'd tried to buy Harry separate products for himself-- but Harry would have none of it, claiming he very enthusiastically loves smelling just like Louis. And how was he to deny something so bloody simple, that made Harry so bloody happy? He wasn't a goddamn monster, for fuck’s sake.

 

They finished up their shower just before the water began to run cold, then dried off half-heartedly, brushed their teeth-- “Harry, you were _just licking your own arse!”--_ before collapsing into bed and winding around each other. They fell asleep like that, a proper kitten cuddle pile, Harry's cheek pressed to Louis’ chest and listening to his heartbeat.

 

~~~

 

A month passed. Harry was an eternally cheerful ray of sunshine in Louis’ life. He was so happy, so in love, so unaffected by the rest of the world. All that mattered to him was that Louis loved him back; and Louis did. He adored his kitten.

 

They went on more dates, without old boyfriend interruptions; to the park, the cinema, restaurants, a tea shop. They found a sense of belonging in each other, and Louis was reminded, once more, how much Harry was starting to feel like home. Harry began to figure out how to navigate his way through the world, started fitting in more smoothly with people, actually made _friends_ other than Niall and Liam. Surprisingly, after their shaky first meeting, Harry got on with Nick excellently. They both had an odd sense of humor, and he was only, like, 15% jealous.

 

Harry landed a job, too, finally settling into being mostly human. It was at a pet store, the one just down the street from Grinder, actually. He'd charmed the knickers off the owners the first time they'd went in.

 

“Louis,” Harry had whined, tugging him up to the bright display window, plastering himself to the glass and peering in eagerly. “Lou! Look! Kittens!” he whined, eyes wide. “Please, please, please,” he begged, looking adorable in an oversized, pink, kitten hoodie with little sleeve paws. He pooched his bottom lip into an alluring pout, all flushed cheeks and fluttered lashes. Louis gave in immediately. Nobody could resist the Harry Styles™ pout, especially not himself. He'd even seen that fucker work on Nick, and that wanker could be a hard arse about free scones.

 

“Fine, fine,” Louis crumbled, a faint smirk on his face as he shook his head fondly. Harry lit up like one of the Christmas trees they'd just walked past on the street, and Louis smiled so big in reply his cheeks ached. Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him in the door, one ear twitching out from beneath his hood at the tinkle of the door bell. Just as Louis expected, Harry beelined for the kennels of kittens, squeaking softly.

 

“Hello!” Harry chirruped excitedly, tail swishing behind him as he curiously nosed at the bars of the closest cage. “Hello!” he repeated, just because. “All of them are so cute!” Harry whined, wiggling his hips as he went up on tippy toes to peer inside the highest kennels. “Hi, kittens! Harry is me. Louis is with me! Say hi, Lou,” he demanded, pressing his fingers past the bars and purring as a few kittens walked over and expressed interest. Louis read the sign: _Please ask to open cages._

 

Quietly, Louis slipped away to do so, but Harry was too busy playing with the felines to even notice. Louis returned shortly, holding a key and grinning. Two older ladies watched fondly as Louis opened the back room and tugged Harry over.

 

“C’mon, they said we can play with all of them if we keep the door shut,” Louis chuckled, and Harry gasped, eyes widening, before he started bouncing.

 

“Thank you! Thank you!” Harry called back towards the women, glowing and radiant, and so painfully _lovely._ They smiled and waved both boys inside. Louis shut the door behind them as Harry ran up to the kennels. “Hello again! Harry gets to play with you all!” he hummed. He read each little info sheet aptly before clumsily opening the cages to bring out the kittens. “Hello Puddin’!” Harry chirped, setting a small black and white cat on the floor. “Hello Sugar!” to a furry, patched grey feline, who joined Puddin’ happily. “Hello Poppy!” to a grumpy-looking Siamese. “Hello Felix,” to an older orange tabby. “Hello Olivia, hello Gia, hello Dixie,” Harry giggled at a trio of young, young kittens, all various calicoes. He opened the last kennel with a hum, peering at the inside curiously, before a small, entirely white, long-furred kitten with a black nose and green eyes jumped out and attached itself to Harry's chest. “Hi Boo!” Harry purred, hugging the affectionate fluff monster. Boo purred right back.

 

“Louis! Louis look! It's a Boo bear just like you!” Harry giggled, sitting down in the cluster of cats and looking absolutely delighted as all eight of them clambered up on top of him. Louis yanked his phone out of his pocket so quickly he almost hurt himself, beaming. He snapped several pictures of Harry being suffocated by a wave of friendly felines, his heart melting down his ribcage and pooling in his belly, molten hot and burning him up inside. Harry kept an especially cuddly demeanor with Boo, and the kitten seemed just as infatuated, truth be told. After several minutes, the older cats lost interest and started settling down on the cat tower, grooming themselves. The triplets fell asleep in a small pile of patchwork fur, snuggled up tightly in one of the beds. Boo was the only one who stayed, gently kneading Harry's right nipple and head butting against his cheek. Harry slowly turned an expectant gaze to his owner, smiling widely.

 

“Absolutely not,” Louis replied promptly. “ _Absolutely not,”_ he growled, shaking his head, as that goddamn pout™ came back. Fuck!

 

“Louis… Please? His name is Boo! Like Boo Bear!” Harry whined. “He's 4 months old and, and he's already neutered and has all of his shots. He was the only kitten left,” Harry whispered, “out of the rest of his littermates! He's like Harry! Louissss, please?” he begged desperately, eyes widening needily. “Harry will never, ever ask for anything else again! Swear! Please, please, _please!”_ Harry clasped his cute, little sweater paws in a prayer, pouting adorably and blinking up Louis. Boo sat on Harry's chest and kept kneading his boy’s stomach, purring and pinning his stare on Louis. Shit.

 

“... Ugh! Fine! What's his adoption fee?” Louis rumbled, settling his hands on his hips and glaring at the two of them. “We can adopt him. But _you_ have to help pay for him when you get a job.”

 

“About that,” came one of the ladies, having silently opened the door. “We would love to hire you, if you're up for it!”

 

Which is how Harry got a cat and a job within the span of 30 seconds. Boo settled into their life easily, a very friendly and intuitive kitten that Harry spoiled like an actual child. He was constantly all over the poor thing, but Boo seemed to enjoy the constant attention, the outfits, the babying. Louis would watch as the kitten sat happily in a front-facing infant carrier, Harry feeding him bites of tuna and kissing his nose, occasionally grooming him. He found it cute! Except… Y'know. He kissed that mouth.

 

Love meant sacrifices, even about oral hygiene. Louis was okay with that. At least it wasn’t a dead rodent: small miracles.

 

~~~

 

It wasn't until after his birthday, then Christmas-- which, a naked Harry Styles in candy striped leggings and a bow was by far the best present he'd ever received-- that Louis started actually, truly thinking about proposing. So he'd only known Harry for a few months, and some of that was with him as an _actual_ cat, but, Louis knew, deep in his soul, that Harry was it for him.

 

His family adored Harry, of course; the first time they met, Harry had been so shy, so nervous, absolutely terrified that he'd be eaten alive. He was charmingly stuttery for the first greetings, hugging Jay tightly and immediately seeking approval from the gaggle of girls that surrounded him. Somebody handed him Ernest, and Harry melted, sitting down in the backyard with the family and playing around with him, Doris, and the second set of twins. Daisy and Phoebe demanded to give him a makeover, and Louis caught up with his mum, Fizzy, and Lottie, only returning outside to fetch Harry when the kettle was ready.

 

He found Harry with several messy braids, nails painted each a different color, a rather lot of blush and eyeshadow, and a garish shade of red lipstick, some of which was on his teeth. He had 3 bows clipped to each ear, and several ribbons tied around his tail. Louis knew he was in too deep when all that did was make him wanna kiss Harry and call him pretty. He brought his boy inside, Doris on his hip as Harry carried Ernest, and they sat down for tea and snacks, chattering comfortably about everything and nothing. When he'd gone to leave, Harry in the loo scrubbing off the makeup, his mum had come up behind him with a smile.

 

“He's a keeper, Lou. For life. Don't let him get away,” she hummed, giving him a hug. “Let me know when I can start planning the wedding, please. I'm rather partial to fall weddings, aren't you, dear?” And that was that, even his mother seemed to sense that Harry was spouse material.

 

So Louis agreed, gave her a kiss, murmured, “September 28th was the day I met him.”

 

~~~

 

Louis decided that very day to propose, actually,  but the sappy, romantic fuck in him wanted to make it special. He planned it out over the course of two months, bought a beautiful ring from a quaint shop that was gold with a real diamond, and two little cat ears. He knew it was absolutely perfect, even if it wasn't the flashiest or most expensive. He'd gone that route before, and it had _not_ ended well.

 

He enlisted help from all of their friends-- Niall, Liam, Nick, Gracie and Rose from the pet shop, Ed, Josh, everybody he could think of. He called everyone to his flat, begging the two ladies Harry worked with to fix up some food with all of the ingredients he'd shoved into the fridge and pantry. Louis got the rest of the Engagement Crew to start setting up decorations, moving furniture around, putting up streamers, cute ball lamps, and fairy lights. Louis was a bloody nervous wreck, double checking he had his ring and staring at the clock.

 

He'd told Harry it was a belated ‘Yay! You have a job!’ party with all of their friends. The kitten boy was out shopping at the moment, buying more party supplies, and Louis checked the clock obsessively, feeling a few seconds from fainting, honestly. His mobile suddenly lit up with a text:

 

 **Baby Cakes <3: ** _coming back home!!!! ^.^ have crisps and cheap champagne_

 

Louis _gulped._ Suddenly, Niall and Liam were there, pulling him into the hallway for privacy.

 

“Keep it together, Tommo,” Niall hummed cheerfully. “It's simple, you know he's gonna say yes. He already thinks you two are cat married, for fuck’s sake. He's so gone for you it makes me feel physically ill when you two are together for more than five minutes. In the best way, you two are fuckin’ disgusting.” Liam gave the Irish boy a look and shook his head, snorting, and Louis stared at them with something very akin to panic in his eyes.

 

“You're fine,” Liam assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. “You got this, Lou, don't be stupid. Ni is right; that boy is head over heels in love with you. You guys tattooed each other’s writing on you, got, what, five complimentary tattoos now? You even think his dumb butterfly is cute. You two belong together, trust me. So why are you so scared?”

 

“Because…” Louis almost ran a hand through his hair frantically before stopping; he'd spent twenty minutes on that stupid swirly quiff, he was _not_ going to ruin it. “I love him so much? I would give him anything in this world. I would die for Harry. So, like, what if I fuck it all up? I'd be better off dead than not having him.”

 

Niall and Liam both traded a loaded glance, then simultaneously slapped Louis’ cheeks, gently but firmly. Louis huffed and pushed their arms away, blushing.

 

“He stayed with you even after you accidentally stepped on his tail?” Niall fired at him.

 

“Well, yes, but what does that have to--?!” Louis attempted to answer.

 

“He stayed even though you shrieked and threw a spider at him?” Liam asked next.

 

“Yes, that was totally _not my fault_ th--”

 

“He stayed when you ate that awful Mexican takeout and had the SBD farts for two bloody days?” Liam came again. Louis flushed.

 

“Yes, he did, he was very understanding, kept bringing me antacids and rubbing my tummy,” Louis grumbled.

 

“And he stayed after you cooked him pancakes?” Niall hummed, suddenly serious.

 

“Of course! He said they were delicious,” Louis snorted. Liam gave him a pitying look.

 

“They looked like my dog’s barf in that Instagram picture,” he snorted, and Louis scoffed. “Seriously. And he actually ate them? No complaints?”

 

“No, he begged me to make him breakfast whenever I felt like it,” Louis grumbled, a ruffled, disgruntled peacock at the insinuation-- more like blatant accusation-- that his pancakes were anything but stellar.

 

“True love,” Liam and Niall announced, smirking.

 

“Seriously. Keep him. Put a fuckin’ ring on it,” Niall added meaningfully. “You have nothing to worry about except what colors you'll want for the wedding. Trust me.”

 

Louis was prepared to spend the rest of his life fighting them on the fact his pancakes were just fine, thank you very fucking much, but then suddenly Harry was coming in the door, arms full of bags and smile on full watt bright. His heart stuttered, and he was reminded of his priorities. That was who he actually wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

 

“Pet,” Louis greeted, taking a few bags and walking with Harry into the kitchen. Harry was beaming, calling hellos around the room and looking so lovely that Louis thought he might just collapse. “You are stunning, as always,” he murmured, tugging Harry into a hug and giving him a slow kiss. Harry melted into their embrace, purring softly and briefly rubbing their cheeks together. Louis feared he might burst into tears as Harry nuzzled into his neck.

 

“Everybody's here! Something smells good,” giggled his kitten, and Louis reluctantly let him go. Let his boy mingle, trade greetings and casual conversation as he sneakily made his way to the fridge and started pulling out the little cupcake he'd bought special just for today. They were honeycomb, with a cute, little bumblebee made of sugar and a frosting flower, tiny words along the bottom: _bee mine forever?_ Louis smiled just looking at it, carefully setting it on the counter and sticking the ring right in the middle. He crept around the counter and stood in the living room in front of it, masking it from view. “Hazza! C’n you come here a sec?” Louis asked as steadily as he could, blood thrumming through his veins.

 

“Sure!” Harry excused himself from his conversation and ambled over. He looked content, surrounded by their friends, radiant in a soft pink sweater covered in cat hair, jeans with ripped knees, barefoot, hair in a messy bun that was beginning to fall out. His cheeks were pink from the cool February air outside, and his lips were chapped and red. Louis had never, ever seen him more beautiful. “What's up?”

 

All eyes were on them. Louis reached behind his back, shooing Boo away, pulling out the cupcake and getting down on a bended knee. “Harry Edward Styles… Will you do me the favor of--?” Louis cut himself off in shock, offering the cupcake to his boyfriend. The ring was gone. The ring was _gone_ and the frosting was smeared. “... Bloody buggering FUCK!” Louis groaned, slumping back into the counter as a few tears escaped his eyes. Harry gasped, eyes widening as his hands flew up to cover his mouth.

 

“You… This wasn't how it was supposed to go,” Louis whimpered, absolutely devastated. “Your cat-- your stupid fuckin’ cat _ate_ our engagement ring!” He pinned a state on Boo, who was sat on the armchair and grooming frosting off his whiskers. “Your ring is in the stomach of our dumbarse cat! He _ate our engagement ring!_ Fuck me. I am so sorry,” Louis sniffled miserably, wiping at his face and hunching into himself protectively. “It's all ruined. I don't deserve to marry you.”

 

“LOUIS! Is this-- you're proposing to me? Proposing to Harry? You-- you want to get married?” Harry squeaked. “Yes! Yes! A million times yes!” he yowled, dropping down and pulling Louis into a hug. Louis buried his face in his shoulder, sniffling his familiar scent quietly and wrapping his arms around Harry tightly in turn.

 

“Of course, silly. You're it, Harry. I'm either making you a Tomlinson or giving the fuck up,” Louis laughed, watery but genuine. Harry whined, kissing his wet cheeks before pulling him into a proper one, comforting. It felt like coming home, after a long vacation. Tired, happy, but not feeling quite right until you were passed the door, luggage tossed carelessly away, lying in your bed. Being with Harry was like that. He never wanted to lose that feeling. “At the end of the day, Harry, you're all I want. All I need. Just me, you… And that stupid bloody cat.” Harry giggled helplessly into his chest, beginning to cry too.

 

“Harry loves Louis, so, so much. Let's get married, please. Wanna be yours, forever,” Harry murmured, almost shyly, blinking up at Louis and smiling bashfully. “So. Harry accepts.” The kitten boy plucked a thread from his pink sweater, where it was fraying, offering it and his left hand. Choked up, Louis tied a little bow on his ring finger, shaking.

 

“That'll do until Boo shits it out right? I’ll take litter box duty,” Louis laughed, pulling Harry into another kiss as the room broke out into cheering and hollering and catcalls. They rejoined the party, positively glowing. It was the best night of Louis’ life, and he was only excited for the next one.

 

~~~

 

They grew a lot as individuals and a couple over the next 8 months. There were fights, as all relationships had, some downs, but a significant amount of ups. They moved out of their shit, one-bedroom flat, started renting to own a tiny house outside the city, actually not far from their playground misadventure. They adopted _two_ more cats, Stella and her sister Jewel, off the street, two tiny black kittens who were identical save for Stella’s white chest mark. Louis started working on his uni degree once more, for teaching, getting promoted at Grinder to head manager.

 

They got married on September 28th, the day Louis had first picked up a tiny kitten named Harry an entire year ago. The date was so important to him he rattled **_28_ ** on his fucking knuckles. They had not 1, not 2, but 3 flower girls, all giggly and delighted. Ernest played ring bearer, toddling around in his tuxedo, with the older twins making sure the younger kept out of trouble. Lottie _and_ Fizzy were Harry's maid of honors, and Louis recruited Niall and Liam as his best men. It was unconventional, for sure, but what part of marrying a cat hybrid wasn't?

 

Jay led Harry down the aisle of a little church just outside of Doncaster, looking radiant in a beautiful white suit with floral print. Louis waited at the alter, tears in his eyes, and smiling like the sun as soon as he caught a glimpse of his boy. They traded shy vows, speaking of belonging, and love, and that feeling again, like they'd finally found their soulmates, properly. Harry and Louis kissed slowly, chastely, sealing their bond, and Harry was officially a Tomlinson. They had planned to release doves, but Harry caught one look at the two fluttering lovebirds and started trying to hunt them, so Louis quickly had an attendant put them away. Whoopsie.

 

They had a beautiful cake, very classic and elegant, except for the decorations of frosting paw prints instead of flowers. Louis had frosting dabbed playfully on his nose, Harry drawing whiskers with a giggle, whilst he decided to smash his new husband’s face directly into the rest of the piece. Harry shrieked about his suit and Louis apologized while dabbing bits of icing off Harry's eyebrows, blushing.

 

They had their first dance to a song Harry’s mate Ed had written, _Give Me Love,_ before somebody playfully put on _Smelly Cat,_ which was funny until Harry launched into a rant about it-- “Dogs are much stickier and they slobber! Cats groom themselves all day long! They don't smell! _You_ smell!”-- and Louis had them hurriedly change to something less inflammatory, hiding his laughter wisely whilst his new husband pouted beside him. Their honeymoon was set in Ibiza, in a private beach house that Louis had splurged half their savings to rent. He figured seeing Harry flounce around naked with starfish on his nipples was definitely worth every last pence, though, arguably. Truthfully, it didn't matter if they hadn't even left their new house for their honeymoon, though.

 

Louis Tomlinson finally found his home… in Harry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. AM. A. MESS RIGHT NOW!!!! 
> 
> It's over. My baby is completed. I am in tears :') and so so so proud of myself for all of this. I hope you all enjoy it. I hope you think it's worthy of a comment or kudos or two. I hope you think I did this trope some justice. 
> 
> I really wanna do another round of thank-yous:
> 
> [Rosketch](http://rosketch.tumblr.com/) thank you for encouraging me every step of the way. All your ideas. All your little sketches. ALL OF YOU CHEERING ME ON KEPT ME GOING BABES. You are my main bitch, I would die for you :))))
> 
> You are sooooo amazing [youth-larry](http://youth-larry.tumblr.com/)!!!! THANK YOU
> 
> [Ganeefah](http://sunshineandlollipopsthings.tumblr.com/) Honey thank you for fixing up my mess of a fic I lobe you
> 
> AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, [me, myself, and I](http://aquitecontentbum.tumblr.com/) you fucking did it you dumb bitch!!!! ahhhhhh???? There will be a very kinky sex with in heat!Harry added to this verse... and if you all yell at me enough, I would probs be persuaded pretty easily to do him pregnant and their life with kids maybe... in a drabble... if you lucky.
> 
> FINALLY. Thank you guys for reading this. Comments and kudos is part of the reason I even put this out there. ROUND OF APPLAUSE!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments feed me ;)


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